How Ethel Hollister Became a Campfire Girl
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Irene Elliott Benson >> How Ethel Hollister Became a Campfire Girl
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"And so the mystery was explained. From the date of the appearance of
the two rivers everything in that part of the country prospered. The
cattle were second to none. The fruit was the fairest and most luscious
fruit ever grown, while the crops--corn, buckwheat, oats, barley and
wheat--could not be excelled."
("Today the fisheries are the finest and the Grand Reservoir is the
largest body of artificial water in the world--equal in extent to all
others in the state. It is well for you to know that," said Kate,
interrupting the story).
"And whenever the Indians prayed to the Great Spirit they would thank
him for having sent O-hi-o as a voluntary sacrifice; and each starlight
night old Wa-chi-ta and his wife would search among the constellations
for their three loved ones. Then they, too, passed into the Happy
Hunting Grounds. But with many of the Western tribes the legend remains
until today.
"For years to come the little Indian children would say to one another:
"'It's going to storm. Hear the thunder; see it lighten; let us go down
and watch the little Mus-kin-gum get frightened and rush into his
mother's arms.'"
"That is the end," said Kate.
"Oh! it is lovely," they all cried, "and we thank you so much."
"You see," she added, "now I am glad that I called this Camp Fire the
'Ohio.' That is our legend, and we can have a little copy made to annex
to our book."
Then the Fire Maker came forward and extinguished the dying embers. Each
girl arose and kissed the Guardian goodnight, and retired.
CHAPTER XXIV
ETHEL'S FIRST DAY IN CAMP
The girls slept soundly that night and in the morning were awakened by
the singing of the birds.
"Oh! how lovely it seems to be here," thought Ethel, as she leaned on
her elbow, "instead of being awakened by the toot of an automobile just
to lie quietly and harken to the birds." She looked around.
The other cots were occupied by her Cousin Kate, Patty Sands, and Edna
Whitely. Kate opened her eyes and sat up.
"Have you been awake long?" she asked sleepily.
"No, Kate, only a few moments. I've been listening to the birds. I
thought Aunt Susan's home was peaceful, but even there one could hear
the autos."
Kate arose, put on her slippers and wrapper, and sitting on the cot she
began to unfasten her long braids.
"It is the most restful place I've ever known," she replied. "But,
girls, we're late. Come Patty and Edna."
Patty Sands sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Edna snuggled deeper into
the depth of her pillow.
"Edna, don't go to sleep. There's the bugle now," and the clear notes of
a bugle came floating into the tent.
"Oh!" said Edna sleepily, "that's Nora Casey blowing. I wish she'd stop;
she has the strongest lungs I ever knew."
This morning the breakfast was eaten with a relish. They had oatmeal and
cream, ham and eggs, creamed potatoes and coffee. Mollie Long had
surprised them with some corn bread that was, as Nora expressed it,
"some class."
Their cellar was beside a running brook near the tents. A little
waterfall trickled down the rocks with a cheerful sound. Beside the
stream was their refrigerator--a large deep hole that had been dug in
the ground, and into this, placed in a tightly covered tin bucket, they
put their butter, cream, eggs, and meat. It was as cold as ice. After
the pail had been lowered a clean board covered the opening, and on this
board they placed a large stone. But the farmer with whom Mr. Hollister
had made arrangement, brought up daily from his place fresh meat, milk,
and vegetables, and twice a week pot cheese and buttermilk; so the "Ohio
Camp Fires" were in clover. Nothing they ate was stale and everything
tasted delicious.
After breakfast was over, Ethel, Nora, and Mollie Long cleared the
table, washed the dishes, and tidied up the tent.
CHAPTER XXV
ETHEL'S FIRST LESSON
"Girls," said Kate, after the morning's ceremonies had been performed,
"today we will cook our dinner over a real camp fire. Our menu will
consist of roasted potatoes, green peas, broiled steak, and a lettuce
salad. Sallie Davis is going to make one of her delicious bread
puddings, which she will bake in the oil stove, but the rest will be the
'real thing.'"
The girls were delighted.
"Ethel," said Edith Overman, "in August you shall taste our delicious
roasted corn. You never ate anything so good in your life. When do you
leave for home?"
"August thirtieth," replied the girl. "Do you stay up here until
September?"
"Yes," replied Kate. "We leave about the fifth, but on account of you we
are going home in August this year."
"Oh, how kind!" said Ethel.
Then Kate began:
"Now my little cousin, you have some work to do today. First, you must
learn how to make knots,--the five different styles--but today it shall
be a square knot only. You are to tie it five times in succession without
hesitation. You are to read and be able to tell the chief cause of
infant mortality in the summer, and to what extent it has been reduced
in one American community. That means one city or town. This is your
school and you must attend it before you can play. You must learn what
to do in the following emergencies: Clothing on fire; person in deep
water who can not swim, both in summer and through ice in winter; how to
bandage and attend to an open cut; a frosted foot; what to do with a
person who has fainted; how to use surgeon's plaster; you must commit to
memory a poem of twenty-five lines or more, and you must learn about
yourself--what every girl of your age needs to know. You are not to
learn all of this in one day, but a little every day. Mollie and Nora,
who are proficient in these things, will help teach you. Then you'll
learn to cook, swim, and row a boat. We have a lovely lake about a mile
from here, and there are boats and canoes to hire. All these, and
various other useful things, you are to learn. I want you to be able to
win an Elective Honor in some one of the seven crafts. You must wear
your beads, but you must win them first. Next week we shall remove the
roofs of our tents and sleep in the open. I wish you girls to get a
month or two of it. That counts one honor."
Nora, Mollie and Ethel started in. Ethel quickly learned how to tie the
knot. Then she began to study "first aid to the injured," and the girls
taught her how to adjust a bandage and how to use the plaster.
"It's a shame that ye haven't a real broken bone to work on," laughed
Nora.
"Well, that's a nice thing to say," replied Mollie; "suppose you go and
cut yourself, Nora Casey, or break your leg."
After studying for a couple of hours the girls declared that Ethel was a
promising pupil. She even learned a poem, "The Psalm of Life," by
Longfellow.
CHAPTER XXVI
A LOSS AND A DINNER
"Oh! girls," exclaimed Ethel, "I must get my ring. I left it on the box
where I washed dishes," and she ran to the kitchen tent, but there was
no ring in sight. "I laid it down here and I emptied the water myself,"
she almost sobbed. "It was a beautiful ring--a diamond cluster.
Grandmamma gave it to me. It was her engagement ring."
Kate now came in and they hunted. The girls looked where the water had
been thrown but no sign. They swept the tent and searched thoroughly.
Mollie Long went back to where Ethel stood half in tears and reported
nothing doing.
"Who was with you in the tent?" she asked.
"No one but you and Nora," replied Ethel.
"You remember, Kate," said Ethel, "it was Grandmamma's engagement ring.
I'd have lost anything I own rather than that."
"It's unfortunate," replied Kate, "but perhaps it may turn up."
Poor Ethel took her walk with Patty and Mollie but she was very quiet.
That noon she watched a dinner cooked in the open. Two perpendicular
stakes with forked ends had been driven in the ground, while lying
horizontally across them was another upon which to hang one or more
kettles. Each kettle had an iron hook to place on the cross stake, and
from them hung the kettles. A roaring fire had been made. The potatoes
were laid in the hot ashes and covered. In one kettle the peas were put.
Ethel and Mollie had shelled until their fingers ached.
"Now, girls," said Kate, "someone time those peas. They must not cook
longer than three-quarters of an hour, and they must not be covered."
When the salad had been prepared, the bread and butter spread, and the
water pitchers filled from the brook it was time to cook the steak.
Four of the girls took forks made from tree branches, placed the steak
upon them, and started in. Mollie and Nora in the meanwhile, after
draining off nearly all of the water, had put some salt and a little
sugar in the peas, adding at the last a large piece of butter, and had
placed them in their kettle which stood near the potatoes.
The steak when finished was laid on a large platter and covered
plentifully with butter. Then each girl took and opened her potato, and
what a potato it was!--so unlike those cooked in an oven. The peas were
served in saucers, and the sight of the steak covered with gravy--hot
and juicy--made them hungry.
Each sat on the ground with her plate on her lap, and her saucer and
glass beside her. They ate up every vestige of food.
"Goodnight!" said Nora. "Shure a dog would starve in this crowd."
After an appetizing salad dressed with a suspicion of garlic and a fine
French dressing, came the bread pudding made by Sallie Davis. It was
filled with raisins and each girl passed her plate twice.
"Ethel, what do you think of our Camp Fire dinner?" asked Kate.
"It is simply fine," replied the girl. "I have never tasted one half so
good."
"Poor Ethel, she is unhappy over her ring," said Edna, "and I don't blame
her. Cheer up! it may be found yet," she added.
But Ethel was unhappy, not for the loss of the ring, but because it had
belonged to old Mrs. Hollister.
"I never should have brought it," she said to Kate. "I should have left
it with Aunt Susan. I know it was right on the box when I left the tent,
and it's so unpleasant," she confided to Kate. "One suspects everyone."
"Yes, that's the unfortunate part of it," replied her cousin. "The
innocent suffer for the guilty; that is, if it has been taken by anyone,
but I have an idea that it may have been thrown out with the water."
Ethel studied hard every day. She learned rapidly and one night she
received her first bead. She had learned how to row a boat and she rowed
well. In five days she had rowed twenty miles, which entitled her to
one honor. Before the next two weeks she had learned how to swim; and
she swam one mile in five days. The rule was to swim one mile in six
days, but she went one better; so at one of the council fires she
received her two beads. As her honors came under "health craft" her
beads were red.
Her ceremonial gown had been made for some time. She had worked on it
during rainy days, and when she had finished behold! it was perfect.
"Why, you're entitled to another honor. This comes under 'hand craft,'"
said Patty.
So now she had won three--two red beads and one of green.
"That's good work," ejaculated Nora Casey. "She'll outstrip us all."
Of course each girl won daily. Some had strings nearly half a yard long.
At every council fire the Guardian would distribute them to the girls,
but Sallie Davis had the most beads. She was clever and won many for
cooking.
About the middle of July there came another set of Camp Fires. They
occupied the woods about half a mile away. It seemed that the
Guardian--a Miss Andrews--was a schoolmate of Kate Hollister's. They
were called the "Columbus Camp Fires." The girls were friendly and
together they had great sport.
CHAPTER XXVII
A DISCOVERY
One morning Patty and Ethel started for a walk. They were to climb a
small mountain. On their way they came across a pocket handkerchief. It
was a girl's handkerchief, and on it was the initial "H."
"This isn't Cousin's Kate's I know," said Ethel. "She carried one
certain kind with a tiny 'H' worked in the corner. This looks like a
cheap one that might be purchased for a dime. Whose can it be? Are there
any 'H's' in the Columbus Camp Fires?"
They recalled every name--not an "H."
"Then as it isn't Kate's nor mine it must belong to Mattie Hastings."
"Yes," replied Patty. "She often walks up here alone."
"I wish I could get over my feeling of dislike for that girl," said
Ethel, "but I can not. It grows on me. I shall be glad to go home to
get rid of looking at her. I can never like Nora Casey either, although
I have tried very hard. But I positively shrink from that girl. I don't
trust her."
"I feel the same, and so do all the girls," replied Patty, "but she
seems to have gotten around Miss Hollister. She is invariably hanging on
her."
"Cousin Kate is so kind and good-hearted," said Ethel. "She's always
ready to make the best of people, but I feel like pulling Mattie
Hastings away when I see her around here."
"Look--quick! speak of angels--that was she looking out through those
trees," exclaimed Patty. "Now I wonder what she is doing up here and
alone. My! but it's warm in the sun, isn't it?" and Patty opened the
neck of her waist and removed her hat. "Let's call and see if she
answers us."
So Patty Sands called loudly:
"Mattie Hastings--Mattie--we have seen you--don't hide!"
Someone started to run through the brush. They heard a fall and a
piercing shriek.
"She's tripped," said Ethel. "Let's go and see."
Quickly they picked their way over fallen trees and dead leaves until
they came to the prostrate body of Mattie whom they so disliked.
"What have you done?" asked Patty. "Have you hurt yourself?"
No answer.
"She's fainted!" ejaculated Ethel. "She's been walking in the sun and
exposed to great heat. It's heat exhaustion. See, her face is pale and
she isn't entirely unconscious as in a sunstroke. First we must loosen
her clothing and let her lie down quietly. I wonder if there is any
water about."
"Yes," said Patty, "we passed a watering trough on the road."
While Ethel unbuttoned the girl's waist, Patty ran for water.
"It's lucky I have my drinking cup with me," she called. "I have a long
head. I never take a walk without it."
Ethel made no reply. She unhooked the girl's corset. Then when Patty
returned, together they lifted her to a shady place. Ethel's face was
pale.
"What is the matter?" asked Patty. "You look as though you had seen a
ghost."
Ethel pointed to a chain on Mattie's neck. It was a small silver chain,
and suspended from it were two diamond rings. One was the small cluster
lost by Ethel, while the other was a solitaire. Patty gasped and caught
Ethel by the arm.
"That's your ring."
Ethel nodded.
"And the other belongs to Nora Casey. She lost it a few days ago. She
didn't want to make a fuss about it on account of you having lost yours,
but I think she suspected this girl and determined to get it before she
left camp. Isn't it awful?" and Patty shook her head. "You'd better take
the chain off before she comes to."
Ethel made no reply but lifted Mattie's head and put the drinking cup to
her lips. After a moment the girl took a swallow, then another, until
she had taken it all.
"Don't give her any more now," said Ethel. "'First Aid' says, 'sip
slowly in heat prostrations and give stimulants,' but we have none."
"Take them off, Ethel," said Patty, "she might get up and run." But
Ethel only looked.
Suddenly Mattie Hastings opened her eyes, gazed at the two girls, and at
her shirt waist beside her; then she raised herself and put her hand to
her neck. A scarlet flame surged across her face.
"You've had a sort of fainting spell," said Ethel. "You fell, and the
heat and all made you unconscious for a while. Why did you run from us
when we called?"
With her hands upon her chain the girl looked like a frightened animal.
Something stirred Ethel's pity.
"Don't be frightened," she said, "just tell us all."
Whereupon Mattie Hastings burst into tears.
"First hand me my ring," said Ethel, "and then tell us everything."
The girl tried to unfasten the chain.
"Shall I?" asked Ethel.
Mattie nodded. Then Ethel took the ring.
"To whom does this belong?" she asked.
"Nora," faltered the girl. "Keep it please; I shall never go back. I
shall kill myself," she sobbed.
"That's silly," broke in practical Patty.
"Your father--Judge Sands--he will sentence me to prison," she sobbed,
"and I did it for Mollie. She's my sister. Her spine is broken and the
doctor said she needed food--good nourishing food. She's only eleven,
and he told father that with care she might outgrow it, especially if
she could get in some Institution for Cripples, where she could have
good attention," and the girl threw herself on her face and sobbed
brokenly.
"Now, see here," said Ethel, sitting down beside her and lefting her up,
while Patty and she supported her back.
"You tell us everything; don't keep even a tiny bit back."
"Yes," broke in Patty, "we're Camp Fire Girls and we must 'Give
Service.' Perhaps we can help you if you'll confide in us."
"Before God I will; and I'll tell you all," said Mattie.
CHAPTER XXVIII
MATTIE'S STORY
"My father is a good man. He is kind, hard-working, and gives all of his
wages to Mother. Mother has an idea that I am above my associates. She
is ambitious for me to go with the rich girls--the girls who have
position."
Ethel's heart bounded. Was not her own mother the same?
"I worked in McAllister's store. I earned six dollars a week. Three of
it I paid Mother for board. The other three, with what Father gave me,
bought my clothes; but even with that I could not dress well enough to
go with the girls as she wished me to.
"Her idea was for me to go to church and Sunday School and meet them
that way. Then poor little Mollie was knocked down by an automobile and
she has never left her bed. They were a party of joy riders, and oh! I
hate to confess it, but I've promised--my mother was one of them. She
had a cousin who was a chauffeur and he asked her to go. No one but I
knew that she was of the party, for they were so drunk they never saw
that she left them, and to this day no one knows that it was her
cousin's auto that knocked Mollie down, for he escaped. Mother came home
after Mollie had been taken to the hospital, and at that time we all
thought that she had been out spending the evening. When she found that
Mollie was injured for life she began to take morphine. I alone know her
secret; she never knew that she told it. For God's sake don't betray me.
Every-penny that Father gave her she spent for that drug, and he
thinking that Mollie had the benefit of it.
"At last I couldn't stand it. I couldn't see my little sister die for
the want of proper food, nor could I tell Father, and give my own mother
away, for outside of her ambition for me she had been a good mother.
Then Father grew ill and was laid up with rheumatism. I refused to give
Mother the three dollars for board, but I kept it for expenses. When
she demanded, I told her what I knew and threatened to expose her.
"Father grew better and was able to work again, but poor Mollie failed
daily. I laid awake night after night. I prayed--for I was a good girl
once--for a way to be shown me whereby I could make more than six
dollars a week.
"Then in Sunday School I met Miss Hollister. I had heard of these Camp
Fire Girls and how many fine things a girl could learn, so that in time
she could earn good money. I consulted with Father and he advised me to
join; and Mother was delighted, for she saw visions of my being intimate
with the 'swell' girls."
Here Mattie put her hands on her breast and Ethel ran to the trough for
more water.
"Before we came up here," she continued, "I found a doctor who upon
seeing Mollie said that for one hundred and fifty dollars he could put
her in a Home where she would have attention and treatment. She could
wear braces, and perhaps in time she might grow to be strong and well.
But how was I to get it? Father and I together could hardly pay for our
food.
"One afternoon just before the store closed a lady dropped her purse. I
put my foot over it and stood until she had gone off in her auto. Then
when no one was looking I picked it up, put it in my bosom, and went
home. In the purse I found forty dollars.
"That was the beginning. After that it came so easy, and Mollie enjoyed
the fruit that I brought her. But thirty-five dollars of the money I put
in the bank. I took little things from the store and sold them. I
pretended that they had been given to me.
"Then I came up here. Oh! I expected to end in prison. I knew that it
couldn't go on forever. But I took a chance. I had now nearly
seventy-five dollars. One hundred and fifty, or say two hundred, would
save Mollie. I kept on. I took a locket from Edith Overman. She's never
missed it. It has a large diamond in the center. She's rich and
careless. I took that ring from Nora. I've often thought that Nora
suspected me, but she's never given me away. I've taken money from each
one of you girls. The only one whom I've not robbed is Miss Kate--God
bless her. I wouldn't take a handkerchief from her, she's been so kind
to me. The rest have never liked me. You remember since we came here the
time I went home and spent two days. Well, I went in town and deposited
my money and saw that Mollie had some comforts in way of food and books.
Then when I came back I began taking the jewelry. I have now over a
hundred dollars in the bank. I had come up here today to find a safe
place in some tree where until we went back I could put the two rings
and locket, as I feared that they might be seen on my neck. When you
called and said, 'We've seen you; don't hide,' I thought that you had
discovered that I was a thief and I started to run and fell over the
tree trunk. I had been pretty warm while walking up the hill and I guess
you were correct,--it was the heat. That's all," she moaned wearily.
"You may give me up. I knew the time would come, but I had hoped to have
had Mollie in a Home before I was taken," and the girl lay back on the
ground shaking with sobs.
Ethel and Patty looked at each other.
"Now see here," said Patty Sands, "Ethel and I are not monsters to eat
you up, are we, Ethel?"
"No," replied the girl, "Mattie, I think we may be able to help Mollie."
Mattie sat up.
"What?" she gasped.
"Yes," replied Ethel. "You've done this for her. Now we are not going to
betray you, and we are going to help you; but first, you must give back
everything that you have taken. Do you remember the name of the lady
from whom you took the purse?"
"Yes," replied Mattie. "I have the purse with her card in it."
"Very well; return that by mail. Say if you wish that you found it and
regret not sending it before. You needn't sign your name. Then take
Nora's ring and put it in her suitcase, after which put Edith's chain in
hers. Can you remember the different amounts of money that you have
taken from us girls?"
"I took"--and she faltered--"five from you and five from Patty."
"Well, don't try to think now, but go by yourself and if possible
remember what you took from each girl and replace it as you are going to
replace the jewelry. Whatever you took from the store and sold is a
harder matter and you can't recover the goods."
"No," said Mattie.
"How much did you get for them?" asked Patty.
"About twelve dollars," replied the girl.
"You give that to me," said Patty. "Mr. McAllister is a great friend of
Father's. I will give Father the money and tell him to return it,--that
it's from a client--an old employee--who to save a human life and under
great temptation took the things, and that she wishes to make
restitution. He'll never suspect you, nor will he question Father, for
Father has rendered him too many services."
Mattie grasped her by the hand.
"Oh! you are too good to me, Miss Sands. However can I pay you and Miss
Ethel?"
"Call me Ethel," said the girl.
"Yes, and me Patty. You are one of us and we are all sisters."
"And now," continued Ethel, "my Aunt Susan, who lives in Akron, is a
philanthropist. I've heard her tell of a Cripple's Home there. If your
sister is unable to pay she can get her in free. That doctor may slip
some of that money he speaks of into his own pocket, and if your sister
is under Aunt Susan's wing she'll see that she gets everything she
needs, and she'll have the best of care. You can run down every week or
so and see her. I'm sure Aunt Susan would make you welcome over night."
Mattie Hastings fell on the ground at the feet of the two girls.
"Oh, my God!" she said, "Are you in earnest?" and she kissed their
hands. "Can it be possible that there is about to be made a way for poor
Mollie? Are my prayers to be answered?" and she sobbed while the two
girls held her in their arms.
"Come on now," said Ethel, "let's go home. You're all tired out. We'll
put you to bed. Don't worry, Mattie," she whispered, "we'll attend to
everything."
CHAPTER XXIX
MATTIE STARTS AFRESH
Everything was returned as the girls had planned. Mattie went into town,
drew out her money, put the forty dollars in the purse and sent it to
its owner, as they had suggested.
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