The Camp Fire Girls at Onoway House

Chapter 9

Among the other books at Onoway House there was a Manual of the Woodcraft Indians which belonged to Sahwah, and which she was very fond of quoting and reading to the other girls when they were inclined to hang back at some of the expeditions she proposed. One night she read aloud the chapter about dancing the sun dance, that is, becoming sunburned from head to foot without blistering. On a day not long after this Ophelia might have been seen standing beside the river clad only in a thin, white slip. Stepping from the bank, she immersed herself in the water, then stood in the sun, holding out her arms and turning up her face to its glare. When the blazing August sunlight began to feel uncomfortably warm on her body she plunged into the cooling flood and then came up to stand on the bank again. She did this straight through for two hours, and then began to investigate the result. Her arms were a beautiful brilliant red, and the length of leg that extended out from the slip was the same shade. She felt wonderfully pleased, and dipped in the water again and again to cool off and then returned to the burning process. When the dinner bell rang she returned to the house, eager to show her achievement. But she did not feel so enthusiastic now as when she first beheld her scarlet appearance. Something was wrong. It seemed as if she were on fire from head to foot. She looked at her arms. They were no longer such a pretty red; they had swelled up in large, white blisters. So had her legs. She could hardly see out of her eyes.

Ophelia! gasped the girls, when she came into the house. What has happened? Have you been scalded?

Ive been doing your old Sun Dance, said Ophelia, painfully.

Never in all their lives had they seen such a case of sunburn. Every inch of her body was covered with blisters as big as a hand. The sun had burned right through the flimsy garment she wore. There was a pattern around her neck where the embroidery had left its trace. She screamed every time they tried to touch her. Nyoda worked quickly and deftly and the luckless sun dancer was wrapped from head to foot in soft linen bandages until she looked like a mummy.

Sahwah sought Nyoda in tribulation. Was it my fault, she asked, for reading her that book? She never would have thought of it if I hadnt given her the idea.

No, answered Nyoda, it wasnt your fault. It said emphatically in the book that the coat of tan should be acquired gradually. You couldnt foresee that she would stand in the sun that way. So dont worry about it any longer.

Still, I feel in a measure responsible, said Sahwah, and I ought to be the one to take care of her. Let me sleep in the room with her to-night and get up if she wants anything. Sahwahs desire to help was so sincere that she insisted upon being allowed to do it, and took upon herself all the care of the sunburned Ophelia, which was no small job, for the pain from the blisters made her frightfully cross.

Nyoda was surprised to see Sahwah keeping at it with such persistent good nature and apparent success, for as a rule she was not a good one to take care of the sick; she was in too much of a hurry. She would generally spill the water when she was trying to give a drink to her patient, or fall over the rug, or drop dishes; and the effect she produced was irritating rather than soothing. But in this case she seemed to be making a desperate effort to do things correctly so she would be allowed to continue, and fetched and carried all the afternoon in obedience to Ophelias whims. She read her stories to while away the painful hours and when supper time came made her a wonderful egg salad in the form of a water lily, and cut sandwiches into odd shapes to beguile her into eating them. When evening came and Ophelia was restless and could not go to sleep she sang to her in her clear, high voice, songs of camp and firelight. One by one the Winnebagos drifted in and joined their voices to hers in a beautifully blended chorus.

Gee, thats what it must be like in heaven, sighed the child of the streets, as she listened to them. The Winnebagos smiled tenderly and sang on until she dropped off to sleep.

Sahwah slept with one eye open listening for a call from Ophelia. She heard her stirring restlessly in the night and went over and sat beside her. Cant you sleep? she asked.

No, complained Ophelia. Say, will you tell me that story again?

Sahwah began, Once upon a time there was a little girl and she had a fairy godmother

Whats a fairy godmother? interrupted Ophelia.

Oh, said Sahwah, its somebody who looks after you especially and is very good to you and grants all your wishes, and always comes when youre in trouble

Whos my fairy godmother? demanded Ophelia.

I dont know, said Sahwah.

I bet I havent got any! said Ophelia, suspiciously. I didnt have a father and mother like the rest of the kids and I bet I havent got any fairy godmother either.

Oh, yes, you have, said Sahwah to soothe her, you have one only you havent seen her yet. Wait and shell appear. But Ophelia lay with her face to the wall and said no more. Would you like me to bring you a drink? asked Sahwah, a few minutes later. Ophelia replied with a nod and Sahwah went down to the kitchen. There was no drinking water in sight and Sahwah hesitated about going out to the well at that time of the night. Then she remembered that a pail of well water had been taken down cellar that evening to keep cool. Taking a light she descended the cellar stairs. When she was nearly to the bottom she heard a subdued crash, like a basket of something being thrown over, followed by a series of small bumping sounds. She stood stock still, afraid to move off the step.

Then, summoning her voice, she cried, Who is down there? No answer came from the darkness below. After that first crash there was not another sound. Sahwah was not naturally timid, and her one explanation for all night noises in a house was rats. Besides, she had started after water for Ophelia, and she meant to get it. She went down stairs and looked all around with her light. She soon found the thing which had made the noise. It was a basket of potatoes which had fallen over and as the potatoes rolled out on the cement floor they had made those odd little after noises which had puzzled her. Satisfied that nobody was in the house she took her pail of water and went up-stairs, glad that she had not roused the house and brought out a laugh against herself.

She gave Ophelia the drink, and being feverish she drank it eagerly and murmured gratefully, I guess youre my fairy godmother. As Sahwah turned to go to bed Ophelia thrust out a bandaged hand and caught hold of her gown. Stay with me, she said, and Sahwah sat down again beside the bed until Ophelia fell asleep. Sahwah felt pleased and elated at being chosen by Ophelia as the one she wanted near her. It was not often that a child singled Sahwah out from the group as an object of affection; they usually went to Gladys or Hinpoha. So she responded quickly to the advances made by Ophelia and thenceforth made a special pet of her, taking her part on all occasions.

Soon after Ophelias experience with sunburn a rainy spell set in which lasted a week. Every day they were greeted by grey skies and a steady downpour, fine for the parched garden, but hard on amusements. They played card games until they were weary of the sight of a card; they played every other game they knew until it palled on them, and on the fifth day of rain they surrounded Nyoda and clamored for something new to do. Nyoda scratched her head thoughtfully and asked if they would like to play Thieves Market.

Play what? asked Gladys.

Thieves Market, said Nyoda. You know in Mexico there is an institution known as the Thieves Market, where stolen goods are sold to the public. We will not discuss the moral aspect of the business, but I thought we could make a game out of it. Lets each get a hold of some possession of each one of the others without being seen and put a price on it. The price will not be a money value, of course, but a stunt. The owner of the article will have first chance at the stunt and if she fails the thing will go to whoever can buy it. If anyone fails to get a possession from each one of the rest to add to the collection she cant play, and if she is seen by the owner while stealing it she will have to put it back. Well hold the Thieves Market to-night after supper in the parlor and Ill be storekeeper.

The Winnebagos, always on the lookout for something novel and entertaining, seized on the idea with rapture. The rain was forgotten that afternoon as they scurried around the house trying to seize upon articles belonging to the others, and at the same time trying valiantly to guard their own possessions. It was not hard to get Sahwahs things, for she had a habit of leaving them lying all over the house. Her red hat had fallen a victim the first thing; likewise her shoes and tennis racket. It was harder to get anything away from Nyoda, for she seemed to be Argus eyed; but providentially she was called to the telephone, and while she was talking they made their raid.

When opened, the Thieves Market presented such a conglomeration of articles that at first the girls could only stand and wonder how those things had ever been taken away from them without their knowing it, for many of them were possessions which were usually hidden from sight while the owners fondly believed that their existence was unknown. Migwan gave a cry of dismay when she beheld her Autobiography, which she was carefully keeping a secret from the rest, out in full view on the table. How did you ever find it? she gasped. It was folded up in my clothes.

But Migwans embarrassment was nothing compared to Nyodas when she caught sight of a certain photograph. She blushed scarlet while the girls teased her unmercifully. It was a picture of Sherry, the serenader of the camp the summer before. Until they found the photograph the girls did not know that Nyoda was corresponding with him. And the prices on the various things were the funniest of all. The girls had come down that evening dressed in their middies and bloomers for they had a suspicion that there would be some acrobatic stunts taking place, and it was well that they did. To redeem her hat Sahwah had to stand on her head and to get her bedroom slippers Gladys had to jump through a hoop from a chair. Hinpoha had to wrestle with Nyoda for the possession of her paint box, and the price of Bettys shoes was to throw them over her shoulder into a basket. At the first throw she knocked a vase off the table, but luckily it did not break, and she was warned that another accident would result in her going shoeless. Migwan tremblingly approached the Autobiography to find out the price. It was Read one chapter aloud. I wont do it, said Migwan, flatly.

Next customer, cried Nyoda, pounding with her hammer. For the simple price of reading aloud one chapter I will sell this complete autobiography of a pious life, profusely illustrated by the author. Sahwah hastened up to buy the book, but Migwan headed her off in a hurry and read the first chapter with as good grace as she could, amid the cheers and applause of the other customers. Sahwah made a grimace when she had to polish the shoes of everyone present to get her shoe brush back.

Thus the various articles in the Thieves Market were disposed of amid much laughter and merry-making, until there remained but one article, a cold chisel. Nyoda went through the usual formula, offering it for sale, but no one came to claim it. She redoubled her pleas, but with the same result. For the third and last time I offer this great bargain in a cold chisel for the simple price of jumping over three chairs in succession, she said, with a flourish. Nobody appeared to be anxious to redeem their property. Whose is it? she asked, mystified.

It apparently belonged to no one. Its yours, Gladys, said Sahwah, I stole it from you.

Mine? asked Gladys, in surprise. I dont own any chisel. Where did you get it from?

Out of the automobile, answered Sahwah.

But it doesnt belong there, said Gladys. Theres no chisel among the tools. Youre joking, you found it somewhere else.

No, really, said Sahwah, I found it in the car this afternoon.

Mother, called Migwan, were there any tools left in the barn by Mr. Mitchell?

Nothing but the garden tools, answered her mother. Tom also denied any knowledge of the chisel.

Girls, said Nyoda, seriously, there is something going on here that I do not understand. First Migwan thought she heard footsteps in the attic; then a ghost appeared to me in the tepee; one night we saw a man running out of the barn, and later on that night Migwan claims to have run into a man in the garden. Soon afterward Hinpoha was sure she heard footsteps in the attic, and when we went up we found the window broken. Just a few nights ago a basket of potatoes was mysteriously knocked over in the cellar in the middle of the night, and now we find a chisel in the automobile which does not belong to us. It looks for all the world as if somebody were trying to break into this house, in fact, has broken in on a number of occasions.

Migwan shrieked and covered up her ears. A mystery! said Sahwah, theatrically. How thrilling! The interest in the Thieves Market died out before this new and alarming idea.

It may be only a remarkable series of co-incidences, said Nyoda, seeing the fright of the girls, but it certainly looks suspicious. That window may possibly have been broken by the wind during the storm, and the footsteps may have been rats or Mrs. Waterhouses ghost, and the ghost in the tepee may have been a practical joker, but baskets of potatoes do not fall over of their own accord in the middle of the night and cold chisels dont grow in automobiles. Theres something wrong and we ought to find out what it is.

Oh, Ill never go up-stairs alone again, shuddered Migwan. Sahwah, how did you ever dare go down cellar in the dark after you heard that noise? And she shivered violently at the very thought.

Tom, can you handle a gun? asked Nyoda.

Yes, answered Tom.

Im going to buy a little automatic pistol to-morrow, said Nyoda, and teach everyone of you girls how to shoot it.

I wonder if we hadnt better try to get Calvin Smalley to sleep in the house, said Migwan.

I can take care of you, said Tom, proudly. Nothing else was talked of for the remainder of the evening and when bed time came there was a general reluctance to become separated from the rest of the household. But, although they listened for footsteps in the attic they heard nothing, and the night passed away peacefully.

The next night the ghost became active again. Whether it was the same one or a different one they did not find out, however, for they did not see it this time, only heard it. Just about bed time it was, a strange, weird moaning sound that filled the house and echoed through the big halls. Whether it proceeded from the basement or the attic they were unable to make out; it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Migwan clung close to her mother and trembled. The sound rang out again, more weird than before. It was bloodcurdling. Nyoda opened the window and fired several shots into the air. The moaning sound stopped abruptly and was heard no more that night, but sleep was out of the question. The girls were too excited and fearful. The next day Mrs. Gardiner advised everybody to hide their valuables away. The peaceful life at Onoway House was broken up. The household lived in momentary expectation of something happening. And this is the quiet of the country, sighed Migwan, where I was to grow fat and strong. Im worn to a frazzle worrying about this mystery.

Som I, said Gladys.

And Im getting thin, said Hinpoha, which brought out a general laugh.

Not so you could notice it, said Sahwah. Whereupon Hinpoha tried to smother her with a pillow and the two rolled over on the bed, struggling.

As if worrying about a burglar were not enough, Sahwah and Gladys had another exciting experience one day that week. If we were to stretch a point and trace things back to their beginnings it was the fault of the Winnebagos themselves, for if they hadnt gone horseback riding that day Well, Farmer Landsdowne came over in the morning and said he had a pair of horses which were not working and if they wanted to go horseback riding now was their chance. The girls were delighted with the idea and flew to don bloomers. None of them had ever ridden before and excitement ran high. Naturally there were no saddles, for Farmer Landsdownes horses were not ridden as a general rule, and the girls had to ride bareback.

It feels like trying to straddle a table, said Migwan, marveling at the width of the horse she was on. My legs arent half long enough. She clung desperately to his mane as he began to trot and she began to slide all over him. Hes so slippery I cant stick on, she gasped. The horse stopped abruptly as she jerked on the reins and she slid off as if he had been greased, and landed in the soft grass beside the road.

Here, let me try, said Sahwah, impatient for her turn. He isnt either slippery, she said, when she got on, hes bony, horribly bony. Hes just like knives. She jolted up and down a few times on his hip bones and an idea jolted into her head. Getting off she ran into the house and came out again with a sofa pillow, which she proceeded to tie on his back. Then she rode in comparative comfort, amid the laughter of the girls.

Calvin Smalley, who happened to be working out in front and saw her ride past, doubled up with laughter over his vegetable bed. What next? he chuckled. What next? He was still thinking about this and laughing over it when he went through the empty field which Sahwah had crossed the time she had discovered the house among the trees, and where Abner Smalley now pastured his bull. So absorbed was he in the memory of that ridiculous pillow tied on the horse that he was not careful in putting up the bars behind him when he left the field, and later in the afternoon the bull wandered over in that direction and came through into the next field. He found the river road and followed it and began to graze in one of the unploughed fields belonging to Onoway House.

Sahwah, wearing her big, red hat, was bending low over the ground, digging up some ferns which grew there, when all of a sudden she heard a loud snort and looked up to see the bull charging down upon her. She looked wildly around for a place of safety. Nothing was nearer than the far-off hedge that surrounded the cultivated garden patch. Not a tree, not a fence, in sight. Quick as light she bounded off toward the hedge, although she knew it would be impossible for her to reach it before the bull would be upon her.

Gladys, coming along the road in the automobile, heard a shriek and looked up to see Sahwah tearing across the open field with the bull hard after her. Without a moments hesitation Gladys turned the car into the field and started after the bull at full speed. She let the car out every notch and it whizzed dizzily over the hard turf. She sounded the horn again and again with the hope of attracting the attention of the bull, but he did not pause. Like lightning she bore down upon him, passed to one side and slowed down for a second beside Sahwah, who jumped on the running-board and was borne away to safety.

This hum-drum, uneventful life, said Sahwah, as she sat on the porch half an hour afterward and tried to catch her breath, while the rest fanned her with palm leaf fans, is getting a little too much for me!