The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the Trail

  CHAPTER III A New Dawn

  Very rarely did Polly Burton arise early in the morning. This excellenthabit she had never liked as a girl and, of course, later on her stagelife had made the custom well nigh impossible. Now, however, within thepast few months of outdoor camping, she had changed and become that verydoubtful early bird, or early worm, for one never can be sure which onemay be--the winner of the morning prize or the victim.

  However, the coming of daylight in this extraordinary land of hills anddeserts, of giant cliffs and fairy gardens, was worth a serious effort.

  At any rate this was Mrs. Burton's impression. Frequently she used toslip out of her tent before any one else had awakened and watch the dawnabove the blue San Francisco peaks spread itself slowly over the entirehorizon. Afterwards she sometimes returned to bed and to sleep, or elseread until the Camp Fire girls were in evidence.

  This morning it was a little before six o'clock when, getting into herclothes, she slipped out of doors. Quiet had to be preserved for, nowthat Mrs. Webster had arrived, she was sleeping in her sister's tent,while another smaller tent had been put up not far off which Dan andBilly Webster were occupying together. Now, that Billy was so muchbetter, his brother was able to look after him at night. Moreover theirmother, after her siege of nursing, required the rest.

  For two reasons, therefore, Mrs. Burton departed without making the leastdisturbance. First, she wished her sister to continue sleeping, second,she did not wish her own plan interfered with. One never could be surewhen Mollie would not take a stand against what she might consider anunnecessary eccentricity.

  Mrs. Burton's desire was to see the sun rise above one of the canyons andto see it alone. Not the Grand Canyon itself; one still had a day'sjourney down a precipitous trail from the Sunrise Hill camp for the bestview of this amazing spectacle. She intended visiting one of the lessercanyons which was within reasonable walking distance.

  The pine forest was as gloomy and quiet as a dim old cathedral when PollyBurton started swiftly through it toward the neighborhood of the cliffsof the day before.

  There was a mist at the top of the trees hiding the first shafts ofdaylight. No other living human being was about. Only in one of the treesa screech owl, still under the impression that it was night, continuedhis curious wailing.

  Mrs. Burton was not frightened, but naturally she was a little nervousand keenly alive to every sight and sound. Always enjoying new emotionsand new impressions; now the early morning walk alone in so strange aplace was unlike any past experience she could recall.

  Not many miles away stood a fashionable hotel filled with tourists, whohad come to Arizona to see the Grand Canyon. Yet here in the forest oneappeared to be in a primeval world. Not so different could these forestshave been in the prehistoric days of the cliff dwellers, whose ancienthomes were in the nearby cliffs.

  Following the trail Polly Burton kept glancing from one side of the pathto the other. Ridiculous, of course, but all through dinner the eveningbefore Dan Webster had been regaling the girls with stories of the deerand bear supposed to live in the adjacent woods.

  Yet, in spite of her unfaith, there was always enough of the spirit ofthe adventurer in Mrs. Burton, left over from the one-time Polly O'Neill,to hope for the unexpected.

  Once in a place where the trees grew thicker than elsewhere, she halfbelieved she saw a big, brown figure go lumbering off on all fours in theopposite direction. Nevertheless, without being interrupted in any way,she finally arrived at the ledge of cliffs where she had spent theafternoon before.

  Now, instead of stopping at the same place, she walked slowly along,carefully guarding each step. The morning light was a dull grey--thecolor of deep shadows. Slowly the sky was growing warmer and breakinginto light, coloring the thick mist in the ravine below until itresembled a mammoth, iridescent soap bubble.

  Then the mist began to separate and to float upward like an army ofghostly figures.

  The effect was fascinating--even thrilling--and yet it was eery. To animaginative person many fantastic ideas would have presented themselves.It was as if the spirits of evil persons having been enchained to dopenance for their sins in the world below, and now, having expiated theirmisdeeds, were allowed to float upward. Sometimes they moved in pairs,gradually drifting apart as they reached the higher air. Now and then amore lonely ghost, appearing as if wrapped about in a cloak of silvermist, would pursue his upward flight alone.

  Mrs. Burton felt more than repaid for her trip, yet regretted that shehad not brought one of the girls with her. Bettina would perhaps haveenjoyed the spectacle most. The Camp Fire guardian was beginning tounderstand Bettina Graham better than she had in their past Camp Fireexperience. But her desire was not purely unselfish, for she was nervous.

  The scene was almost too beautiful and mysterious to be witnessed byoneself. Besides, in the past few months she had grown so accustomed tobeing in the society of the Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls that she wasalmost uncomfortable any great length of time without them.

  Now it would have been pleasant to have heard Bettina's pretty fancies,or to have had Peggy dispel the mists by a practical suggestion, or tohave listened to Alice's or Ellen's scientific explanation of clouds, orto have beheld Sally and Gerry giggling irresponsibly over somethingwhich had nothing to do with mists or ghosts or canyons.

  Yet Mrs. Burton lingered until the dawn had fully come and all the skywas rose crimson. Then, glancing at her watch, she started toward camp.

  In another half hour the girls would be up and preparing breakfast. As noone knew where she had disappeared it was possible that her Sister Molliemight become uneasy.

  Once in the woods again she walked more hurriedly, not only because shefeared being late, but for another more absurd reason. Unexpectedly Mrs.Burton had the sensation of being followed.

  She did not see any one or anything, and was not even sure that she hearddistinctly. Nevertheless her impression was vivid.

  Twice she stopped and waited; once she called aloud; the second time,very like the one-time Polly O'Neill, she stamped her foot, crying out:

  "If any one is playing a prank on me, please understand that I am wearyof it."

  There was no answer. However, afterwards she had no longer the sensationof being pursued.

  At camp Sally Ashton and Gerry Williams were busy preparing breakfast.Camp life was at least eventful when these two girls were at work.

  Really, once stirred out of her slothfulness, Sally Ashton, who wasessentially feminine, was an extraordinarily good cook. However, sherequired several persons to wait upon her while she was at work.

  This morning, in honor of Mrs. Webster, she was making a new cornmealbread from a recipe which the Indian girl, Dawapa, had taught her.

  She had Dan Webster engaged in assisting her. Dan not only brought freshwood for her fire every few moments, but in between his pilgrimageswatched with anxiety the cakes slowly browning in the hot ashes. Sallywas never content unless she had at least one man or boy engaged in heractive service. As a matter of fact if one were about she did not findthis difficult to accomplish.

  She waved a plump little hand toward their guardian when Mrs. Burtonstrolled into camp. Over the great pan of bacon she was frying GerryWilliams threw her a kiss.

  There was no one else about. A little tired from her walk, Mrs. Burtonsat down a short distance from the fire, for the warmth was pleasant,and, embracing her knees, began rocking slowly back and forward just asPolly O'Neill had always done when she wished to work out a problem.

  Mrs. Burton was again considering her group of Camp Fire girls. Howpretty Sally looked! Her hair lay in soft brown curls over her whiteforehead. She did not tan as the other girls. At the moment her big browneyes were shining with an animation she did not always show. She waswearing a big apron over her Camp Fire dress.

  Deliciously domestic Sally appeared to be working out-of-doors! For,although Sally did belong to the type of
women whom we choose to callespecially feminine, she had gone far beyond the history of the primitivewoman. Sally's idea was to enslave, certainly not to be enslaved.

  In appearance she and Gerry Williams were a complete contrast, althoughhaving many tastes in common.

  Since the trouble between Gerry Williams and Bettina Graham, Gerry andthe Camp Fire guardian had not continued such devoted friends. Untilthen, except for her niece, Peggy Webster, Gerry had undoubtedly beenMrs. Burton's favorite among her group of girls.

  But Gerry's effort to force Bettina to remain behind in the Indian'shouse, in order to place her in a false position during their lastcamping experience, had appeared not only mischievous but malicious. Mrs.Burton wondered if she had been right in bringing a girl of Gerry'straining and tastes to live with girls who had been brought up sodifferently. She still said nothing to any one of them concerning Gerry'shistory, but she had one talk with the girl herself. Afterwards Gerryapologised, both to Bettina and to her and appeared to repent herbehavior.

  Now, in spite of the fact that Mrs. Burton could not trust her as she hadat the beginning of their friendship, nevertheless Gerry's prettiness andaffectionate manners never failed to appeal to her. She returned the kisslight-heartedly.

  A few moments later the other Camp Fire girls appeared.

  Peggy took away her aunt's coat and hat, since Marie had not been seensince the night before. She was no longer sleeping in Mrs. Burton's tent,but in a tent with several of the girls.

  Alice Ashton reported to Mrs. Burton that Marie had not yet lifted herhead from the pillow, so overcome did she appear to be, either fromrelief or regret at the loss of Mr. Simpson.

  Breakfast was about ready to serve before Mrs. Webster and Billy finallycame out to join the others. They were an odd contrast--the mother andson--suggesting the homely but immortal comparison of the hen with theugly duckling.

  Mrs. Webster--who had once been Molly O'Neill--had cheeks round and softand rosy as a girl's. Her blue eyes were filled with the sweetness of aloving and unquestioning nature. She was well past her youth and yet, inspite of her comfortable plumpness and the few grey hairs among the blackones, to the persons who loved her she seemed to grow prettier andsweeter as she grew older. Certainly her own family adored her.

  But Billy Webster, her son, was a delicate boy with fair hair and largeblue eyes. His expression was difficult to understand until one came toknow that Billy questioned everything, but, having decided for himselfacted, whenever it was possible, solely upon his own judgment.

  When Dan Webster started forward to join his mother and offer his morninggreeting, one felt better satisfied. For, except that he was big andstrong and virile, he was exactly like her, both in appearance andapparently in character.

  The Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls were in the habit of beginning each daywith some little ceremony appropriate to their outdoor life and thespirit of their Camp Fire. Each member had her appointed time, for amorning ceremony. Today chanced to be Mrs. Burton's.

  When everybody had assembled she walked toward a clearing and stood withher face to the east and her back against a group of pine trees with agrowth of underbrush between.

  "I am sorry all of you were not with me this morning at daylight. To haverecited my verse then would have been more appropriate," she began.

  However, what she recited was not so important, since always Mrs.Burton's audiences heard her with thrilling interest. For one reason, thevoice of the great actress was so beautiful and appealing. Like the greatSara Bernhardt she would have been able to stir her hearers both tolaughter and tears by a mere recital of the alphabet, could she havespoken as Bernhardt did in a language unfamiliar to her listeners.

  "This verse is a part of the Indian New Fire ceremony and seemed to meappropriate to our morning camp fire," she explained.

  Some vivid, charming quality appeared to be born anew in Polly O'NeillBurton each time she faced an audience, no matter how small andunimportant. This love of her work was perhaps the surest expression ofher genius.

  She now lifted her head, the color coming swiftly to her face, andpointing to the sun and then toward their own fire she spoke in abeautiful resonant voice:

  "All people awake, open your eyes, arise, Become children of light, vigorous, active, sprightly; Hasten clouds from the four world quarters, Come snow in plenty, that water may abound when summer appears, Come ice and cover the fields, that after planting they may yield abundantly, Let all hearts be glad."

  The last words sounded like an invocation to happiness. However, it wasMrs. Burton who started forward, saying unexpectedly:

  "Dan, there is some one watching us. I was under the impression I wasbeing followed in my walk this morning. Why, I cannot understand! Willyou find out who it is?"

  Then, without replying, Dan went quickly forward into the nearby woods.