The Camp Fire Girls at Onoway House Part 11

"You have?" asked Miss Barnes, with interest. "Would you like to come out and visit her?"

"Could I?" asked Nyoda.

"Certainly," said Miss Barnes, "come right out with me now. I'm going back."

And so Sahwah's mysterious disappearance was cleared up. When the Winnebagos, lined up in the road, saw the automobile approaching, and that Sahwah was in it, they welcomed her back into their midst with a rousing Winnebago cheer that warmed her to the heart. All the clouds had been rolled away by Nyoda's explanations and this was a triumphant homecoming. A regular feast was spread for her, and as she ate she related her adventures since leaving the house early that other morning.

Without forming any plan of where she was going she had walked up the road in the opposite direction of the car line and then a farmer had come along on a wagon and given her a lift. He had taken her all the way to the other car line, three miles below Onoway House. She had come into the city by this route. She did not want to go home for fear they would come after her, so she went to the Young Women's Christian a.s.sociation.

As she sat in the rest room wondering what she should do next she heard two girls talking about registering for camp. This seemed to her a timely suggestion, and she followed them to the registration desk and registered for two weeks. She went out that same day. When she arrived there she did such feats in the water that they asked her if she would not stay all summer and help teach the girls to swim. She said she would, and so saw a very easy way out of her difficulty. The reason they had not heard from her when they put the notice in the papers was because they did not get the city papers in camp.

Sahwah surveyed the faces around the table with a beaming countenance.

After all, she could only be entirely happy with the Winnebagos. Migwan and she were once more on the best of terms.

"But tell us," said Hinpoha, now that this was safe ground to tread upon, "what it was you put into the ketchup."

"Oh," said Sahwah, who now remembered all about it, "those were a couple of cloves that were lying on the table."

And so the last bit of mystery was cleared up.

CHAPTER IX.-OPHELIA DANCES THE SUN DANCE.

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?"

"I've 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 hadn't given her the idea."

"No," answered Nyoda, "it wasn't your fault. It said emphatically in the book that the coat of tan should be acquired gradually. You couldn't foresee that she would stand in the sun that way. So don't 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." Sahwah's 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 Ophelia's 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, that's 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. "Can't 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 G.o.dmother--"

"What's a fairy G.o.dmother?" interrupted Ophelia.

"Oh," said Sahwah, "it's somebody who looks after you especially and is very good to you and grants all your wishes, and always comes when you're in trouble--"

"Who's my fairy G.o.dmother?" demanded Ophelia.

"I don't know," said Sahwah.

"I bet I haven't got any!" said Ophelia, suspiciously. "I didn't have a father and mother like the rest of the kids and I bet I haven't got any fairy G.o.dmother either."

"Oh, yes, you have," said Sahwah to soothe her, "you have one only you haven't seen her yet. Wait and she'll 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 b.u.mping 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 n.o.body 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 you're my fairy G.o.dmother." 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 Ophelia's 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 amus.e.m.e.nts. 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 inst.i.tution 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. Let's 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 can't play, and if she is seen by the owner while 'stealing' it she will have to put it back. We'll hold the Thieves' Market to-night after supper in the parlor and I'll 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 Sahwah's 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 Migwan's embarra.s.sment was nothing compared to Nyoda's 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 Betty's 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 won't 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 ill.u.s.trated 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. n.o.body appeared to be anxious to redeem their property. "Whose is it?" she asked, mystified.

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

"Mine?" asked Gladys, in surprise. "I don't own any chisel. Where did you get it from?"

"Out of the automobile," answered Sahwah.

"But it doesn't belong there," said Gladys. "There's no chisel among the tools. You're 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.

Mitch.e.l.l?"

"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."