CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RAINY DAYS AND WOODCRAFT LORE
The Band soon settled down into routine life again after the surpriseparty, the girls excelling each other in the preparation of simplemeals, swimming, and other requirements of a first-rate Woodcrafter.They often referred to the Manual for ideas of how to win _coups_ andhonours, their ambition being to be able at the end of the summer toshow a long line of decorations for their ceremonial dress.
Nita was working eagerly on an Indian Clock, or sundial for camp.Jane was making a correct map of the country about the camp. Elenawas interested in collecting and mounting moths and insects for grand_coups_. Zan was becoming so expert with rod and tackle that ofttimesshe returned to camp, after a few hours' absence, with a fine mess offish. She was eager to win a _coup_ for this claim, and was becoming agood sportswoman. Hilda, always inclined to household ideas, had wonher _coup_ for cooking, and making an Indian bed. It was her suggestionthat met with great enthusiasm, and that was for all to join inbuilding a log cabin near the camp site.
PRACTICING FOR THE ARCHERY _COUP_.
_The Woodcraft Girls at Camp. Page 276_]
This was considered great fun, and whenever any extra time was foundthe girls were always busy working on the construction of the cabin.Miss Miller had drawn working plans for them and selected and expoundedthe values of timber and trimming.
The weather for the first five weeks had been unusually clear and fine,but the second week in August came in cloudy, and a penetrating mistfell every other day, even if it did not rain hard enough to keep theBand indoors.
"Dear me, I wish it would rain, or do something definite, and be donewith it!" exclaimed Hilda, one morning, as she shivered at the dampnessof the ground.
"Seems to me I haven't seen the sun for an age!" added Jane.
"Well, I'm thankful we managed our _coups_ for star-gazing and outdoorthings while the weather was so good," said Zan.
"Yes, 'cause there wouldn't be much pleasure in a hunt through themarsh for bugs, or a hike over wet hills for flowers, with this fogsifting into your marrow," whimpered Nita.
"Girls, you've done nothing but complain over the weather for the pasttwo days. It positively makes me cold, too, to listen to you. Supposeyou try to change the fog into something like sunshine within," advisedthe Guide.
"Miss Miller, how can you, when you feel like that hard-boiled egg thatrefused to digest?" called Hilda, who had just eaten a hard-boiled eggfor her breakfast.
"Seems to me Miss Miller believes in Fletcherizing everything incamp-life so that we, on our return home, will win the _coup_ of beingtermed thoroughly digestible even in fog!" cried Zan, making a face atHilda.
"One thing Headquarters can say of you, Zan, and that is that yourEnglish is Fletcherized so well these days that grammatical indigestionfrom excessive use of slang is a disease of the past," remarked MissMiller.
"All the same, there's room for still more improvement," retortedHilda, who could not win the same commendation from the Guide forcareful speaking as Zan did.
"I have such faith in modern improvements, Hilda, that I would go tothe trouble of tearing up and discarding old fixtures as long as Icould hope for a thorough renovation. That is a delectable future youall will take pleasure in looking for," mocked the irrepressible Zan,with a sweeping courtesy.
The others laughed, and Nita, whose face and manners had changed almostmiraculously since her red-letter talk with the Guide, turned to herand asked: "What are the plans for to-day?"
"Well, as the rain is making it unpleasant to remain here, and a walkis out of the question, we might go to the house and light a cheerfulwood fire. With some books and a circle of happy Woodcrafters roundthe fire, I can't picture a better day."
"That sounds like a good time, even if it will be a dry one," declaredZan, giggling at her pun.
"Perhaps you've never heard the old saying of the something-or-otherwho always laughs at his own jokes," retorted Hilda.
"Perhaps you're not aware that my native wit is actually penetratingyour thick----" Zan caught herself just in time.
"Huh! Afraid of a demerit! Why didn't you conclude?" dared Hilda.
"Pooh! I should worry over one little demerit when I can relievecongestion of my manners! So here's to you, Hilda, old girl. I'll putit over you, old top! Now, does my native wit penetrate your thickcocoanut?" chuckled Zan maliciously.
Although every one laughed at Zan's taking the dare in such a wholesalesweep, Miss Miller felt obliged to change the subject, while Elenaquietly did her duty in noting a demerit for the culprit.
Wickee accompanied his friends to the house, and stretched out in frontof the log fire the moment it was blazing in the chimney-place. Thegirls sat about, enjoying the cosy warmth for a few minutes beforegoing to the small library.
"Let's bring the books out here, it is so much nicer and makes youforget that we are not in front of a genuine campfire," suggested MissMiller.
This idea met with approval, and soon every one was squatted in acircle about the fire. Wick, be it understood, holding his priorposition of comfort in front of the blaze.
"Miss Miller, did you ever take any special interest in bird life?"asked Elena, who was turning over the pages of a book on birds[B] whichshe had found in the doctor's bookcase.
"Yes, indeed, I love birds of all kinds, and I always try and makefriends with any that come near enough. I have been thinking how niceit would be to construct some bird-houses and coax our little featheredfriends to live with us in camp."
"Yes, yes, let's! We can begin to-morrow if it is clear, eh!" abettedJane, eagerly.
"Motion carried without a protest!" said Zan.
"Miss Miller wins a merit, too. Too bad Zan hadn't thought of it, sheneeds merits," remarked Nita.
"I was too busy planning something of much more importance to the Bandthan a few little flats for newly-weds!"
"What was it--tell us before you forget," cried Jane.
"Well, just this! I am sure Miss Miller has a ton of interestingstories stored away in her memory, and this is just the kind of a dayto hear some of them."
"Hurrah! Zan's right. We'll vote for Miss Miller to relieve her memoryof some of the bird-tales," added Hilda.
"Maybe the bird-tales I can give you have feathers!" laughed the Guide.
"We won't object to feathers as long as they are not moulting!" cameback from Zan, quick as a flash.
They all laughed at the retort and the Guide continued her argumentby saying, "I never like to _give_ away anything, it is too much likecharity, but a fair return for anything given is a benefit for both.Suppose I tell each one a story of some bird you find in the book, youto tell me of its habits, distinguishing characteristics, and otherdata."
"It's a go! We all agree to refuse charity when a much pleasanter offeris made," said Elena.
"Then we will begin with the oldest Indian in the Band--Jane, youfirst!" said the Guide.
"Humph! I am very fond of bluebirds; suppose I select them, you'll haveto wait a minute until I find something in the book about bluebirds,"replied Jane, opening the book they had.
"The bluebird is one of the heralds of Spring; the male appears abouta week before the female. While awaiting his mate Mr. Bluebird visitshis old haunts and gossips happily with his old friends the robins. Thebeautiful colours of the bluebird makes him very dear to bird lovers,for he actually brings a bit of Spring sky to chilled winter hearts. Itis as the poet wrote, 'with the sky-tinge on his back and the earthtinge on his breast.'
"After a few days the females arrive in loose flocks, and then is heardthe love-notes of the bluebird during his wooing of a mate. When themate of his choice and he start to think of house-keeping they find asuitable place in an orchard-tree, stump root, old post, or a modernflat as Zan says, made by some friendly hand. Most of the house-work,such as nest building, is done by Mrs. Bluebird while the master of theestablishment warbles and flits about to cheer his spouse.
"Soon a fe
w pale blue eggs are laid in the nest and in a short timetiny nestlings appear. Now both parents are out providing food for thechildren who eat greedily and grow rapidly. When they are strong enoughto fly they leave home to seek their own fortunes and Mrs. Bluebirdstarts another brood."
"That was very good, Jane; now, do you think you can recognise abluebird when you see one?" said the Guide.
"Hardly; but a concise description follows this: Bluebirds are largerthan the English Sparrow, being about seven inches long. Upper parts,wings, and tail of the male are bright blue, the throat, breast, andsides are brownish; the belly whitish. The female's colour is similarbut of a duller shade.
"In the summer they are found anywhere from the Gulf of Mexico toCanada, and in the winter they travel as far south as Mexico."
"Now I will tell you a true story a friend of mine told me. I wasspeaking of the gentleness of a bluebird when my friend remarked,'They can fight as fiercely as others if their selection of a home isquestioned.' Then he went on to mention an incident.
"A pair of bluebirds visited the gourd-shaped nest of an Eave Swallow,built the season before. Deciding after many visits that it would suit,they made their home there.
"Robins, swallows, and sparrows that came near were fought off by themale bird from his perch on the roof near the nest.
"All went well until one day, after a severe rain storm, the nest felland the half-grown birds scattered about the steps. One was dead, theothers lying quite stunned and still.
"Lining a small wooden box with soft grass and moss, we nailed it upwhere the mud nest had been and placed the young birds in it. Thehomeless parents watched us anxiously and when we left the new domicilethey took up their interrupted house-keeping with a great flutter ofimportance."
"Wasn't that cute of them!" said Nita, smiling when the story ended.
"I guess that friend of yours must like birds!" commented Zan.
"Indeed he does--in fact, there are two friends, a man and his wife,and I wouldn't dare say which one is fonder of birds," said the Guide,her voice taking a reminiscent tone as she recalled the valued visitsat their home.
"Now it is Nita's turn, being next in age," said Miss Miller, smilingin the direction of the girl who was poring over the small yellow book.
"Why, I was so interested that I forgot! Isn't it fine to find out allabout such wonderful things that are about us all the time without oureyes ever seeing!" exclaimed Nita.
"Perhaps that is what is meant when the Bible speaks of 'eyes have yeand ye see not,' and in another place something about our eyes beingholden so that we do not see the beauties of Spirit," said Miss Miller.
"I know that my eyes have beheld more beauty in nature since we camehere than I ever dreamed was in the world," said Elena, gratefully.
"I haven't decided on a beautiful bird so much as the fact that wehave heard many of them about our camp--I mean the catbird. I see adescription in this book so I will read it," said Nita.
"The catbird can be found as far north as southern Canada, and in thewinters south as far as Florida. It is nine inches in length, andsmaller than a robin. The upper parts are slate coloured shading intoblack on brown and tail. Under parts are slaty grey, with warm brownpatch under the tail.
"Its nest is hidden in thick bushes and is built of twigs, grassesand leaves. The five or six eggs are of a beautiful green and theparents utter their distressed call whenever a hostile bird or animalapproaches its young."
"Nita's description is correct, but I must admit that I haven'tany real incident of a catbird to tell you," said Miss Miller. "Afew details omitted by Nita, I can supply however. He is sleek andwell-groomed, being very proud of his appearance. After he is satisfiedwith his toilet, he will swing on an alder and pipe his low andmelodious note. But how different his tone, should you approach thenest while his mate is watching a brood of young. Then they will give aspiteful and shrill call that is almost rasping on sensitive nerves.
"The catbird is a clever imitator and many a woodsman has been misledby thinking he was on the trail of a bird he much hoped to secure, orwatch. Suddenly, when he nears the place where he heard the note ofthe rare bird, the disappointed human will hear the catbird give amocking laugh. It also mews like a cat, so naturally that it derivesits name from the habit. I may add that Woodcraft Indians should offeran honour to every catbird that overcomes the disagreeable habit ofhoarse mewing. I have heard that a catbird has imitated perfectly astrain of 'Yankee Doodle' and other music. Sometimes, one will becometame and live in the home of its human friends, in this way learning toutter sounds peculiar to mortals. One catbird is said to have cried sonaturally like the baby of the house that the mother never could tellwhich it was--baby or bird."
"I think I'll choose a wren for my bird--they are so small and busy allday long," said Hilda.
"I know a very pretty story of Jenny Wren, so you may begin to earn itjust as soon as you like," replied Miss Miller.
"The wren is found in the eastern states and is about five inches long,the wings being over two inches. Its colour is reddish brown barredwith dusky shades; under-parts are brownish grey. The most familiarwren is our house wren which is fond of associating with men, buildingits nest near the habitations of its human friend. The nests are madeof twigs and grasses and lined with any soft material the wren canfind. The eggs are from five to six in number and are of a reddishshade."
"Now for Miss Miller's story!" cried Elena, eagerly.
"One summer a friend of mine was washing windows and her cloth fellon to the porch roof directly under the window. Her boy had built abird-house of an empty starch-box with a hole cut in the end. This boxwas placed in a tree opposite the roof. As it had only been there aday, no one thought of tenants so soon. But the cloth was needed andshe stepped down to the edge of the roof where it lay. At the same timetwo little wrens flew away from the top of the box where they had beenwatching the suspicious actions of the woman on the room.
"She threw some woollen threads and a handful of crumbs on the roofand soon had the satisfaction of seeing the wrens return and eat thebread, then carry the woollen bits into the box.
"That summer two broods were raised and sent forth into the world tocheer other people. But one little member of the second brood was sodelicate that it could not leave the nest at the debut of her brothers.My friend watched the nest that day, and was most eager to see what thelittle thing would do. That night, a prowling cat must have climbed thetree and caught both father and mother, but the child escaped--possiblyby being caught in the notch of a friendly bough as it fell from thecat's claws.
"Next morning, the family were shocked to find feathers where theparents had been, and the boy, climbing the tree sadly to take down thehouse, heard a faint cheep! He sought and found the half-dead birdling.It was carried indoors and its broken leg placed in tiny splints. Aftera few days the family saw with delight, that the wren would live. Itgrew to be a strong bird, and as soon as practical, it was placed ina hand-made nest under the eaves of the roof directly over the windowwhich faced the old box-nest.
"Jenny, as she was called, flew away with her friends in the Fall andthe family all felt that it was farewell forever.
"The following Spring, as my friend was spading about the front flowergarden, she heard a familiar cheep in the tree above her head. Shelooked up and saw a wren winking down at her.
"Oh, how much it looks like Jenny, but of course it can't be!"exclaimed she to the boy.
A few moments later the wren flew down and lit quite near the woman,and cheeped away as if the story must be told. The boy ran in and foundhis father's field-glasses. With these he examined the leg of the birdand then shouted, 'It's Jenny! It's our own Jenny with the mended leg!'
"And so it was. Jenny remembered and came back to her old home andremained to raise her family. The following year she came again, andthe next year also. After that she came no more."
"Dear little Jenny--that was a sweet story, Miss Miller," said Nita.
&n
bsp; "I want to select grouse for my wild bird--they are so pretty," saidElena, contemplating a picture of the grouse.
"That will be a good selection--now let us hear about it," replied MissMiller.
"There are varied species of grouse, the most common, being foundin northern and temperate parts of America, Europe and Asia. Thelargest ones found in Europe are commonly called Wood Grouse. It is amagnificent bird that grows to be from two feet nine inches to fourfeet in extended breadth, and weighs from eight to fourteen pounds.There are also in Europe the Black Grouse, Heath-Cock, and Black Game.
"The prairie chicken inhabits the western prairies of the United Statesand is the best for taste of any of the native grouse. They are muchsmaller than European grouse and weigh but three to five pounds.
"In New England and the Middle States the grouse is known better as thepartridge, and in the south as the pheasant. They can be found wheredeep woods afford seclusion. They are so much sought after by huntersthat the government had to pass a law to prevent them from becomingextinct. Their colouring is adapted to the colour scheme of nature andaids him in hiding from his pursuers. In early May a nest is built ina dip, or hollow, near the foot of a tree or old stump. The eggs arelight buff and number twelve and more. The young grouse run about withthe mother as soon as they are hatched and in a week they are able tofly about. A brood remains intact until hunters, dogs, or wild animalsbreak up the family."
Elena gave a signal for the Guide's story.
"The only one I can think of this moment is one told me by the samefriend who related so many bird-tales to me.
"He thought it might be possible to capture some young grouse and raisethem in captivity and tame them. So, one day, while walking through anancient wood road thickly covered with beech leaves, he found a motherwith her brood of little chicks not more than a few days old.
"He endeavored to catch some and advanced toward the little fellows.As he did so, the mother uttered a hissing sound very disagreeable tothe ear, and flew at him with wings spread and head low. As he did notstir she charged almost to his feet, then turned and struggled off,painfully dragging a wing as though it had been broken.
"He was so interested in watching the mother that he forgot momentarilyabout the chicks. He followed the poor mother for a short distance,gaining on her at every stride until he was near enough to pick her upcarefully.
"Whoop--whirrr! away she flew with no indication of an injury to eitherwing. When he sought for the chicks not one could be seen.
"Refusing to have a grouse fool him in that simple manner, he hid amongthe leaves of a thicket and waited patiently.
"After a time a whirr of wings flew by the thicket and soon the mothercalled _Kwit, kwit_! Then, out of the leaves came the little fellows,and hopped about their mother. They had been hidden under leaves nearbyand so quiet had they kept that not a sound or peep of any of thembetrayed the hiding place."
"Did he catch them?" eagerly asked Elena.
"No, indeed, he smiled at the solicitude of the mother and the rareobedience of the children who had been taught what they must do intimes of danger, so that he walked back home empty-handed."
"I s'pose wild animals eat lots of them?" ventured Hilda.
"Yes, the grouse is hunted both by man and beast. But the grouse knowsby instinct just what to do, so they sit up in the branches of a treeduring the night hours when four-footed hunters seek to catch them.Then, they find a new peril awaiting them if an owl happens to be near.Owls love to feast on a nice plump grouse.
"Beside the owl, the grouse is exposed to the cold of winter whenhe has to flee to the branch of a tree; if snow covers the groundsufficiently to blanket him he dives head first from his perch into thesoft hiding place and it closes over him, keeping him warm and givingprotection at the same time."
"Humph! I could yearn for the millennium-time when the lion and lambshall walk together, for then the grouse will be quite safe, won't he?"said Zan, almost in tears over the troubles of the little brown bird.
"Yes, that will be a wonderful time, Zan, and we shall all be at peacethere," replied Miss Miller, looking away out of the open door.
"Now see what you started, Zan Baker!" whispered Elena, who wasimpatient to continue the bird stories.
Miss Miller laughed and Zan retorted, "A demerit for Elena--usingslang!"
"I've chosen the hawk--not because it is beautiful or lovable butbecause I do not know much about them," said Zan.
"Well, you have covered three distinct types in one selection, for theowl, the eagle and the hawk have much the same habits. Now read yourlesson," said the Guide.
"The hawk family has several branches, the most common and the fiercestis called the sparrow hawk. In olden times the nobles at Court liked togo hawking--that is they trained hawks to hunt for them. Too, falconswere used for the same purpose.
"A hawk has a beak much like a falcon, but its wings are shorter andlacks the pointed tip. It is found in cold countries and in the hillsand mountains of northern climates.
"Among the hundreds of varieties in the world, there are over thirtydistinct kinds in America. Among the commoner known are the pigeonhawk, the chicken hawk, the sparrow hawk, and marsh hawk."
Zan stopped short and studied the book for a moment, then said, "Itdoesn't say anything about nests or the young hawks."
"Well, then I will speak a good word for the hawk for he needs it.Farmers used to think he was an enemy to be watched and shot on sight.Recent years, however, have shown that the hawk will not steal achicken or pigeon, if there are enough mice or rodents about. Evendestructive insects will furnish a lunch for him, if he can findenough. As they destroy the very things a farmer dreads for his crops,they really become a ready-aid to house-cleaning the fields.
"From the reading Zan gave us you might be led to think that hawks onlyinhabited cold countries, but that is not so. They are well distributedover North America and migrate south with other feathered tribes. Someremain permanently in the south. The name sparrow hawk does not signifythat he kills our little sparrow, for he does not. He lives mainly oninsects. The hawk's nest is generally found in an old tree hollow andthe eggs number four to five--brown spotted in colour and thick shelled.
"Mr. Thompson-Seton says of the marsh hawk, 'that they eat mice,reptiles, frogs, and birds, but rarely attack fowls,' and Mr. Seton isan authority not to be disputed.
"Well, we've had our five birds but the manual says we must have aboutten. Miss Miller, it will be much nicer if you tell us about the othersand let us hear and think, then apply our lessons later," suggested Zan.
The other girls heartily approved of the suggestion, so the Guidelooked at her watch and smilingly said, "It is almost time for lunch,and we haven't been near the kitchen yet."
"Well, lunch can wait to-day--we have all afternoon anyway!" repliedJane looking out at the pouring rain.
"I think I'll speak of the birds we are apt to find in our woods athome. Then, should you see one you can better apply your knowledge,"said the Guide.
"The swallow is one of our most graceful birds. There are the commonbarn swallow, the eave swallow, tree swallow and bank swallow.
"The barn swallow is our greatest neighbour; he is about seven incheslong with a body of steel-blue on the upper parts, head, throat andbreast a warm chestnut colour. The outer tail feathers are sharplyforked in shape and are tipped with white. The wing feathers whenspread wide also show a dot of white now and then. They travel as farnorth as Greenland in summer and go to South America in winter.
"The eave swallow builds its gourd-shaped nest under the eaves of thebarn, as you doubtless understood from his name. The nests are builtof clay or mud, and often, when the young birds are newly hatchedthe weight causes the nest to break away from the eaves and generaldestruction results. The brave little swallow begins anew, however, andsoon another home and family are his reward. The nests are lined withsoft feathers and grass and have a small round entrance from which thelady of the house peeps forth a
t her neighbours.
"Eave swallows resemble their cousins the barn swallows in shape andcolor, but they are not as graceful and lack the forked tail. They areslightly shorter too, and have a brown ring around the neck.
"Bank swallows are always flitting about in daytime and you can oftensee them resting on the telegraph wires. He should be called theengineer swallow, as he is a digger of tunnels. He cuts into a bankwith his feet until he has tunnelled for a yard or so. In a small nookat the end he makes the nest.
"These swallows are but five inches long and feed on insects as do allswallows. They are found in North America and migrate as far south asBrazil in winter.
"A bird sometimes called chimney swallow is also known by the name ofchimney swift. It nests in the chimneys now, but in days when few whitefolks lived in America it lived in hollow trees or caves."
The girls sat with eyes intent on the Guide as she paused and Janesaid, "Fine, Miss Miller, but you still have four more stories."
"I ought to be allowed time to breathe and take a sip of water like anypublic speaker does," said Miss Miller, rising to go to the porch wherestood a bucket of fresh water from the well.
"We'll have a drink too, it is more convivial when all join in,"laughed Nita.
"Since it is Nature's special brew I heartily endorse your suggestion,"replied Miss Miller, in thought reading again the contents of DoctorBaker's letter.
Comfortably grouped once more near the fire, the Guide continued.
"A bird we are sure to hear while in camp is the whippoorwill. When youfirst hear his cry you will feel startled, wondering who is about to bewhipped. Then, as the cry is repeated over and over from the willows,or some other tree, you will remember my story.
"This bird flies in the night and rests in the daytime. They buildno nests but lay two eggs on a stump, or on the ground. It is areddish-brown in colour, mottled with grey-black and white.
"They eat great quantities of destructive insects and thus prove a helpto mankind.
"Many superstitious folk used to believe that a whippoorwill boded illto the family it serenaded, but this foolishness is fast disappearingas the understanding of bird-life and denizens of the forest becomeswide-spread. And, girls, camps and organisations like Woodcraft areactually bringing about the boon of knowledge to deluded and ignorantmortals."
"Long live Woodcraft!" came from Zan in a deep-toned boom.
The others laughed and Miss Miller assumed a more comfortable positionbefore she continued.
"There are so many sweet little birds that I am sure we have seenthis summer that I hardly know where to begin. I want to speak of theoriole, the bobolink, the friendly sparrow, the lark, and, in fact, Ican't repeat more just now. But one bird I must acquaint you with isthe wood-pecker.
"In the spring you will see the red-headed wood-pecker. They used tobe very tame and trusting, but they have thinned out considerably ofrecent years. The head, neck and throat are bright crimson, their backsblack, and under parts white. The wings and tails are bluish black, andthe wings in flight are plainly barred with white.
"He builds a nest in a hollow tree and feeds upon nuts which he storesin hollow fence posts and trees, as well as on insects and slugs. Afavourite delicacy is the fresh sap of a tree. So eager is he to getthe latter that he will drill a hole in a perfectly healthy orchardtree and drink the fluid that forms in the little cups drilled by themarauder. In this way, a fine fruit-bearing tree will soon show signsof the ravages of the sap-sucker.
"Our cheeriest bird-friend, I think, is the robin, for he announcesthat spring is surely come to stay.
"I am not going into details about robin, for you know as much as I doabout him, but he ought to be included in our ten, I think," said MissMiller.
"Oh, yes, he was a favourite with the Indians, too," added Zan.
"A queer bird I want to tell you about is the loon. You will notfind him about this section of the country, but some day when wecamp farther north in the mountains, we will recognise him readily.He utters a cry so like the wail of a human being that it is hard tobelieve a mere bird can do it.
"The loon is an accomplished fisherman and can dive as well as anyexpert, in fact he is known as the great diver. He swims like a fishand rides waves as easily as a sea-gull. The great speed with which heswims under water permits him to catch all the fish he wants for food.
"The loon is a peculiarly formed bird, the legs being set so far backunder the tail that he almost topples over when walking on land, butthis very thing gives him the power to propel swiftly in water.
"He builds a nest of grass and rushes as near the water as possibleand two large eggs are laid and carefully hatched by the female.
"The keen desire of sportsmen to capture the birds that evaded them socleverly, finally drove the loons of the Middle Atlantic States to findshelter in the north and west where primeval forest still protectedthem."
The Guide got up from her chair as a signal that the story-telling wasover for the day, and the girls stretched out on the rug wishing thehour was ten instead of twelve.
"If you had all you wanted of one good thing you would never realiseall the good things in store for you," said Miss Miller.
"I suppose lunch is a good thing, but when you have to get it beforeeating it, it somehow loses its quality of goodness," replied Hilda,getting up on hands and knees before standing erect.
"See how funny Hilda looks with her two pig-tails down over her head!"shouted Zan, while Hilda's head was bent low.
"That gives me an inspiration I needed for this afternoon'sentertainment. I have been puzzled about Hilda's share in it. Now, ifyou girls will hurry to help with dinner, we can the sooner enjoy thesurprise I have planned," said Miss Miller.
No further urging was necessary, for each anticipated a treat when MissMiller spoke as she did.
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