The Camp Fire Girls' Larks and Pranks; Or, The House of the Open Door, Page 2

  CHAPTER II VERONICA

  At four o'clock one afternoon some few days later Hinpoha and Sahwah,breathless from hurrying, ran up the steps of the house where Nyoda livedand rang the bell. The other Winnebagos were already assembled when theyentered, and Nyoda was not there.

  "Where's Nyoda?" demanded Sahwah.

  "Sh, she's gone over to get--_her_," answered Gladys, smoothing out thefolds of her pretty new pleated dress with one hand and tucking in astray lock with the other.

  "What did you say 'sh' for?" demanded Sahwah curiously. "There's no onesleeping, is there?"

  "I don't know why I said it," answered Gladys, rumpling up the hair shehad just tidied, "I'm so excited about meeting Veronica that I don't knowwhat I'm doing. I just can't sit still." And she jumped up from her chairand began to pace nervously up and down the room.

  "Doesn't it remind you of the time we stood on the dock at Loon Lake andwaited for Gladys to make her first appearance?" said Hinpoha to Sahwah."Don't you remember how we wondered what she would be like and you andMigwah nearly fought over whose affinity she was going to be?"

  "Did you really, girls?" said Gladys, pausing in her walk. "And was I asnice as you hoped I'd be?"

  Footsteps on the porch saved Hinpoha from having to reply and Gladyshurried to her chair and seated herself properly. A moment later Nyodaentered the room with a young girl beside her whom she led into thecenter of the group.

  "Girls," she said, with one hand on the stranger's shoulder, "this is ournew member, Veronica Lehar."

  All eyes centered on the newcomer. She was a small, slender girl withshort curly black hair, olive complexion, bright red lips and a straight,finely modeled nose. She wore a dark red velvet dress which suited hercomplexion wonderfully, and fell in soft folds about her lithe form. Shewas as straight as an arrow and as graceful as a deer. From the crown ofher finely poised head to her little fur-topped boots she was anaristocrat. The simple Winnebagos were abashed before her. Never had theymet such a high-born little lady. There was an air about her which theycould never acquire if they lived a hundred years. They felt likepeasants in the presence of a queen. But they forgot her aristocratic airwhen they looked into her eyes. Large and dark and velvety as a pansy,but so sad it almost broke your heart to look into them. All the sympathywhich the girls had worked up for her since hearing her story came backin a rush and they surrounded her with cordial greetings and expressionsof welcome. Veronica held her violin, which she had brought over withher, under one arm while she shook hands politely with all the girls. Sheanswered all their pretty speeches in a friendly manner, but she neveronce smiled, and her eyes had a look as if her thoughts were not there inthe room at all, but back in the far country across the ocean. Althoughshe had an accent she spoke a beautiful English, in fact, she used farbetter language than the majority of American schoolgirls, and more thanonce the girls felt embarrassed when they had forgotten themselves so faras to utter a slang phrase.

  Conversation soon languished, for Veronica did not seem inclined to talk,so Nyoda started the girls singing camp songs to amuse her, and led thetalk around to the Winnebagos' doings which she was now to take part in.Of course the new lodge was the main topic of conversation with theWinnebagos and they waxed so enthusiastic over its splendors thatVeronica exclaimed with some show of warmth, "Oh, I must see it soon!"Then she added, "Tell me what I must do to become a Camp Fire Girl likeyourselves."

  "You must have a symbolic name," answered Gladys eagerly, anxious to bethe one to explain things to Veronica, "and a Ceremonial dress, and learnthe songs, and know the Camp Fire Girls' Desire, and the Winnebagopasswords and oh, lots of delightful things."

  "What are they, the Winnebago passwords, and what are they for?" askedVeronica.

  "Well," answered Gladys, "you know what a password is, don't you? Well,we have passwords to admit us into the Lodge on Ceremonial night. Butbefore I tell you about the passwords I must tell you about the signalcalls, for they come first in order. You see, the general signal of theWinnebagos is the call of the whippoorwill, like this"--and sheillustrated her words with a clear call. "You repeat that three times andat the end of it you must give your own individual bird call. We all havedifferent ones. Mine is the robin, like this. Nyoda's is the bluebird;Hinpoha's the loon; Medmangi's is the owl; Nakwisi's the meadowlark andSahwah's the catbird."

  "Whatever made you take such a hideous screech for your call, Sahwah?"interrupted Hinpoha. "There are lots of nicer bird calls than that of thecatbird."

  "I don't care, I wanted the catbird," returned Sahwah. "It suits myindividuality, as my dear friend, Miss Snively, would say. I am the 'catthat walks by himself and all places are alike to me!'"

  "Be a catbird as much as you like," said Gladys pacifically, "as long asyou don't eat us poor bird-birds. But to go back to the passwords. Yousee, Nyoda is Guardian of the Fire, and she always goes up to the Lodgeroom first on Ceremonial night. If any of us get there ahead of her wehave to stay out until she comes. Then we announce our coming by givingthe call of the whippoorwill and she knows one of the Winnebagos isbelow; and she knows which one it is by the individual bird call. So shecalls out 'Who goes there?' and we answer 'A friend.' When she says,'Stand and give the countersign,' we have to say, 'Other Council Fireswere here before.'"

  "What does that mean, 'Other Council Fires were here before?'" askedVeronica.

  The girls looked at one another. "What does it mean?" asked Gladys.

  "I don't know," said Sahwah.

  "I don't know," said Hinpoha.

  "You insisted on our having it, Sahwah," said Gladys. "Why did you chooseit if you didn't know what it meant?"

  "Oh," explained Sahwah lightly, "I saw it written over the door of one ofthe historical buildings at the Exposition, and it sounded as if it mightmean something grand, so I chose it. You girls were all delighted withit, so that's proof it's a good catch-word."

  "It is a good countersign," said Nyoda, "although I confess I can't tellwherein the charm lies."

  "Well, to proceed," said Gladys, "after you have given the countersignyou will be asked to give the Inner Pass Word, and then you must say'Kolah Olowan.' That means 'Song Friend.' You know we pride ourselves onbeing a singing group, that is, we have a great many songs that we singtogether, and I think our dearest friends are those we sing with. So weWinnebagos call each other 'Song Friends,' or friends bound together bythe power of our familiar songs. That's why we chose bird notes for ourpersonal symbols. The birds are the original Song Friends. What bird areyou going to choose for your own, Veronica?"

  Veronica's sad eyes stared thoughtfully into the fire for a moment. Thenthey filled with a smouldering light. "I shall be the gull that fliesover the sea," she said in a low voice, "because some day I am going tofly over the sea to my dear home."

  "We were all nearly ready to cry when she said that," wrote Gladys toMigwan, "only Nyoda popped up then and asked Hinpoha and Sahwah to sing'The Owl and the Pussycat,' and they climbed on the sofa for thebeautiful pea-green boat--you know what a beautiful pea-green it is--andfor a small guitar Nyoda gave Sahwah a little pasteboard fiddle thatproduced three notes when you turned a crank, and the whole thing was soridiculous that we laughed until our sides ached."

  After the Owl and the Pussycat had sung themselves over the back of thesofa and down on the floor with a thump Nyoda made tea in her newelectric teapot and passed platefuls of thin sandwiches, and Sahwah upsether cup into her lap demonstrating how perfectly she could balance it onher knee and had to stand before the fire to dry her skirt.

  "You brought your violin along; won't you play for us?" asked Nyoda ofVeronica when the excitement over Sahwah's mishap had subsided.

  In graceful compliance with Nyoda's request, and without waiting to beurged, Veronica took her violin from its case, settled it under her chinwith a movement that was a caress, and drew the bow across the strings.With the first note teacups and sandwiches were forg
otten and the girlssat in a spellbound circle, while Sahwah stopped mopping her skirt withher handkerchief and the wet spot dried and scorched unheeded. Such awitching melody as rose from the strings--now light as a fairy dancing ona bubble, now hurrying like the brook over its pebbles, now sighing likethe wind in a rose tree, now slow and stately like the curtseying of agrande dame in the movements of a court dance. When it came to an end thegirls sat breathless, too dazed to applaud.

  "Play some more!" begged Gladys in a whisper. It seemed like adesecration to talk.

  Veronica played on, now fast, now slow, now sad and now gay, and finallywhirled into a wild gypsy dance that set the blood tingling in herhearers' veins as the swift measures followed on each other's heels,until they could see in their mind's eye the leaping figures of thedancers in their bright costumes. Faster, faster, flashed the bow on themagic strings and Veronica's whole soul was in her eyes as she played thefamiliar strains of her homeland. Her lips parted in a flashing smile andone foot tapped the carpet in time to the music.

  Suddenly a string snapped with a discordant crash. Veronica came toherself with a start. The light left her eyes and she stood staring intothe fire with a sad, bitter expression.