“O fiddle!” exclaimed Lillie squelchingly. “You have got scouts on the brain! Where would a scout come from up here in these wilds?”

But Edith was not to be gainsaid and had flown post-haste up to the Morrows’ bungalow to reappear a few moments later with a field glass. Raising it she began to yell triumphantly, “There, girls—I’m right—it is a scout! a real scout!” In a moment she was surrounded by a bevy of girls, each one begging for the loan of the glasses, but Edith was whimsical, and refusing to comply handed the glasses to Helen, who, after a calm survey of the bank on the other side of the Lake, declared that Edith was right and that it was a scout.

“Oh, do you think—” exclaimed some one. But no one stopped to think, for at that moment the clear notes of the bugle announced supper, driving all thoughts of scouts from the heads of the famished girls as with a cheer of delight they made a swift rush for cup, plate, saucer, and headed for the dining-room.

It was a tired lot of girls who, with sharpened appetites but dismayed faces, gazed at the slim array of eatables that confronted them at this, their first camp meal. Nathalie made a wry face, but as she heard Helen’s reminder that every one was to be satisfied even if she ate tacks, she smiled in attempted contentment and started in on mush.

But tacks were not to be on the menu that night, for Peter suddenly appeared, and with his best bow presented a big platter of cold chicken with Mrs. Van Vorst’s compliments. Everything now went as merrily as a wedding feast. Really, it was surprising how that chicken lasted, for the girls had attacked it with grim determination. Nathalie half suspected that Peter had a secret supply hidden under the table, for every one had all she wanted and still there was more.

Supper was soon over and, then after each girl had washed her own table-ware and laid it in its place, they hied themselves down to the water’s edge. Here, in sweaters and caps—as the air was chilly—they listened to the crooning melodies of nature, and watched for life on the opposite shore—reminded again of that scout—and talked, well, just the things that a lot of happy girls would discuss with the prospect of three glorious weeks in the open before them.

A trill of song from a hermit thrush in the woods near-by stirred the hearts of the music-lovers and soon the campers were singing, “Suwanee River,” to Lillie’s thrumming accompaniment on the mandolin. Then came “Tenting on the Old Camp Ground,” “Oh, My Darling Clementine,” and a host of songs familiar and dear to the heart of youth.

As they ended the last line of “Bring Back My Bonnie to Me,” every one suddenly sat up and took notice, while an impetuous one called out, “Oh, what was that?”

“Some one is mocking us!” added another listener.

“Oh, nonsense,” laughed Helen, whose ear for music was not keen, “that’s an echo!”

But it proved to be no echo, for as the girls started in again to sing they found that if they stopped suddenly, the voices, which they now recognized as coming from the other shore, would continue with the song. This created no end of laughter among the girls, and their surprise and amusement increased as they recognized that their friends on the other side of the Lake laughed when they laughed, as if in mockery.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” suggested Kitty, “let’s give the Pioneer yell and see if they answer.” This was no sooner suggested than it was done, but not a sound was heard, no, not even an echo in reply.

“Well, they can’t be scouts,” said an Oriole, “or they would answer in some way.”

“Let’s sing, ‘We’re Pioneers,’ and then they’ll know who we are, anyway,” some one proposed, a little more cheerily.

This proposition met with favor, and the girls were soon singing with a zest and verve that deserved a reward, but as before a dead silence greeted their efforts.

The campers felt inconsolable, for some of them had already begun to dream of the fun they would have if there were some jolly scouts about, especially if they proved as chivalrous and as manly as the scouts at Westport. As the girls discussed ways and means of making these strange neighbors reveal who they were, suddenly from the other shore came in stentorian tones, evidently through a megaphone, “Be prepared!” This startling announcement was immediately followed by a chorus of male voices singing with hearty gusto, “Zing-a-Zing! Bom! Bom!” to the accompaniment of a loud sound, as if every one was pounding on a tin pan.

The girls sat stunned with surprise for a moment and then Edith cried, “Why, they can’t be scouts after all, for that is not the salute used by the Westport Scouts.”

“Huh! but that is just what they are—scouts,” cried one of the Orioles quickly, “for that is the national salute. My brother has a Scout book and I have seen their call.”

“Well, they’re not Westport Scouts, that’s one sure thing,” voiced one of the girls who had been dreaming.

“What difference does that make,” cried Lillie, “as long as they are scouts? But don’t you think we girls ought to make some return, hadn’t we better sing our Pioneer—” But before the girls could answer they heard the scout salute again. As they clapped an encore, the Sport blowing the bugle to add to the demonstration of praise, their neighbors broke into song.

“Oh, it is a song to us, a serenade!” ejaculated one of the girls; and then as each one grew silent they heard:

“Welcome!Welcome!sistersdear,
Asweroundourfire’scheer
Wewishyouluckincampsofine
Sweetwithbirchandwoodedpine.
Pleasureandjoyattendeachday,
AsbytheLakeyoumakeyourstay!”

“Oh, isn’t that just dandy?” “If we could only tell who they were!” But these exclamations came to an end as Nathalie cried, “Girls, let’s shout our new call, don’t you know the one we made up so as to salute the scouts? Now, ready!” and with a “One! two! three!” the girls’ voices rang out over the water as they chorused:

“Ragglety!Pagglety!Rah!Rah!Rah!
You’rewelcomescoutswithaHa!Ha!Ha!
Comradesandfriends,we’llmakethewoodshum
WhenyoutoCampLaff-a-Lotcome.
Foryourwisheswe’llgiveyouthreecheers,
HurrahforScoutsandGirlPioneers!”

“Why, Nathalie, you changed the words!” cried one or two slow ones as they perceived that the girl had substituted certain words that were more appropriate to the occasion than the ones they had learned.

Nathalie only laughed, and waved her hand for silence as the little company of merry, fun-loving girls listened to the noise their neighbors were making. Certainly it was a medley of sounds, for it appeared as if horns, tin pans, and just about everything capable of making a racket had been called into service in their appreciation of the fair ones’ ready reply to their song.

Mrs. Morrow appeared at this moment with the announcement that it was nine o’clock, and according to camp rules all Pioneers were to be in bed by that hour, so the girls sounded a parting cheer and then hurried to their tents. The few who loitered, as if reluctant to leave their friends across the lake, heard an old-time good-night song with one or two variations in words that added to its charms ring out clearly:

“Good-night,campers,
Good-nightcampers,
Good-nightcampers,
We’regoingtoleaveyounow!
Merrilywerollalong,rollalong,rollalong;
Merrilywerollalong,o’erthedarkbluesea.”

A few moments before six the next morning Nathalie opened her eyes, yawned drowsily, and then rolled over to see Helen staring at her from the opposite bed with wide-open eyes.

“Oh, I have had such a delicious sleep,” she cried. “I don’t believe I wakened from the time I touched the pillow. Helen, isn’t it just too lovely up here in these woods? Did you hear that whippoorwill toot just after we got into bed? And these bough beds, aren’t they the coziest—”

“Well, you’ll get coziest with a vengeance, Blue Robin,” was Helen’s terse reply, “if you don’t get into your bathing-suit—” Helen ended with a shrill scream as the bugle’s blast sounded with startling clearness in the still morning air.

But Nathalie was already half-way into her suit. The last button was caught. “There, I’m ready before you, Miss Poke!” she taunted gleefully, as the second call sounded. The two girls tripped lightly across the open space in front of the tents thickly strewn with pine needles and thus on down to the boathouse pier.

Just a moment and a slim figure was seen leaping through the air, then Nathalie arose like a mermaid from the sea, blowing and puffing the water from her mouth as she floated for a moment on her back and swam gracefully back to the bank. As she reached shallow water she stood up and waved her hand to a group of shivering ones on the bank crying, “Oh, come on, kiddies!

“Sure, it’s cold!” she nodded to a faint remonstrance from a timorous one, “but you’ll get heated if you’ll take the plunge!”

Out from her dip, with the wish that it could have been longer, she hurried to her tent; after a rub came the dressing, the picking up of her clothes, the putting her bed to air, and then the call for breakfast.

After this meal came the event of the day, the naming of the camp, the tents, and the boats. Camp duties were soon disposed of and then there was a general stampede to Mrs. Morrow’s bungalow, where the Sport, as chairman of this committee, stood waving the Stars and Stripes on the roof of the veranda.

A cheer arose a few moments later when its bright colors fluttered gently to and fro in the morning wind from the flag staff that had been hoisted over the Director’s abiding-place, and the girls, quickly forming in line, gave the flag salute. The Star Spangled Banner was then sung with a heartiness that found its echo in the woods, the very leaves on the trees seeming to rustle in reverence to the country’s honored emblem.

The campers now gathered before Mrs. Van Vorst’s bungalow, where, from a high flagstaff erected by Peter, a white flag fluttered gracefully to the breezes, disclosing in red letters the words, “Camp Laff-a-Lot.” Beneath this flag curled a smaller one, also white, bearing in blue letters, “The Girl Pioneers of America.”

Some one was just about to mount a ladder placed against the flagstaff when Nathalie, with sudden thought, turned and whispered to Mrs. Morrow, who immediately signaled to Helen. Helen nodded as she listened to her Director, and then stepping forward stood before Nita who, with her mother and Ellen, was a joyful spectator of this camp demonstration. A sudden look of delight overspread her face as she heard what Helen had to say, and then after a hurried assent from Mrs. Van Vorst, Nita with the help of Peter had mounted the ladder, holding a bottle of water in her hand.

A swing of the bottle, a crash of glass, a stream of water trickling down the pole, and Nita in a voice somewhat faint at first, but that grew louder as she caught Nathalie’s eye, cried, “Summer camp of the Girl Pioneers of America, I name thee, Camp Laff-a-Lot!” Wild bursts of applause now broke forth, even Ellen and Peter doing their share, the former tearing off her apron and flapping it vigorously, while the latter brandished his hat hilariously, stopping every moment or so to rub the back of his hand across his eyes. “Sure,” as he afterwards confessed to Nathalie, “it was enough to make any one weep with joy to see Miss Nita spilling all over with happiness!”

As the Pioneers hastened to the boat-house they saw a diminutive figure standing on the top of its little square cupola. With many flourishes of her bottle Carol—who had been elected to this honor—chimed jubilantly, “Boat-house, in memory of the ship that crossed the unknown sea to carry the founders of this nation to its shores, I now name thee, ‘The Mayflower’!”

And so the naming continued, the little log summer-house being honored by the name of Ann Burras, a pioneer of the Jamestown colony, known as the first white bride in America. The tent loaned by Mrs. Van Vorst was dubbed “The Three Guardian Angels,” in appreciation of the services of Ann Drummond, Sarah Cottin, and Mrs. Cheisman, also of the Jamestown company, sometimes known as “The White Apron Brigade,” as during the Bacon rebellion they were placed in front of a trench where Bacon’s men were digging, to prevent Governor Berkeley from firing on the Fort.

The “Grub House” was to be known as the “Common House,” a most appropriate name, the campers declared, as it contained their food and ammunition, just as the little log hut known by that name held the necessities to sustain and defend the lives of the Pilgrims in the Plymouth settlement.

The doctor’s army tent was named the “Three Margarets,” to honor Margaret Brent of Maryland, the first woman suffragist, Margaret Draper, the first woman to publish a newspaper, and Margaret Duncan, the first of her sex in the new world to engage in mercantile life. Helen and Nathalie’s tent was to be known as the “Two Anns,” out of respect to Ann Hutchinson, the first club woman, and Ann Bradstreet, the first American poetess.

The boats were quickly honored with the names Priscilla, Mary Chilton, Annetje Jans, and Polly Prevoorst, while shady retreats, lofty trees, and rocky coves were named anew to do homage to those women who helped their good sires build the foundation of this great Republic, by being faithful, enduring wives and mothers.

At eleven o’clock the girls assembled on the shores of the Lake for a life-saving drill. Forming in line at a given signal, each girl quickly unfastened her red necktie, and turning swiftly to the right tied one end of it in a square knot to her neighbor’s. This red life-line was then thrown to the sinker—as the girls dubbed Edith, who was playing the part of the person drowning. She hurriedly grabbed this necktie rope and was drawn ashore by her comrades.

The girls found that this drill not only made them keen and alert, training them to keep cool heads, but helped to give them reliance as well as courage, and—heaps of fun.

The bathers were now lined up for a swimming contest, each girl at the toot of the horn making a wild dash for the water, and swimming out as far as she could to the stake-boat, manned by the doctor, anchored some distance from shore. This contest was to determine not only who could swim, and the best swimmers, but those who had the greatest amount of strength and endurance, who would be able to train others not so competent.

Nathalie, who had spent a number of summers at a seaside resort and therefore was at home in the water, found to her surprise that she, Helen, and Edith were the three best swimmers of the campers. This was as much of a surprise to her as to the Pioneers, for, supposing that she was a swimmer of only average skill, she had never even told that she could swim.

Drills and contests being over, the girls were allowed to do as they liked, and so were soon gambolling about in the water, having the merriest time running races in the more shallow water, ducking one another, or teaching some more timid one to swim or dive.

Nathalie and Helen had rowed out some distance from shore and were practicing diving by jumping from the boat. “Now!” Helen would shout as they stood poised in the center, “One! Two! Three!” The next instant there would be a flash of pointed hands, a sweep of blue bathing-suits—like bluebirds skimming through the air—a splash, and then first one head would appear and then the other, each one blowing and puffing water from her eyes and nose like a porpoise.

“O dear,” exclaimed Nathalie suddenly as the two girls sat sunning themselves in the boat, “here comes the Sport. I wonder what she is up to now!”

But it was all in a morning’s fun, and the three girls were soon having fine sport as a diving team of three. Tired at last, they settled for a short rest, Helen and Nathalie laughing merrily as they watched Lillie Bell trying to induce Carol to do something more than wet her feet. Suddenly there came a shove, and a second later the two girls went splashing head-foremost into the water!

A few moments and they bobbed up, not at all serenely, as they sputtered and gasped, struggling to eject the water from eyes and noses. Helen, seeing Edith disporting herself some distance away, demanded with flashing eyes, “What did you do that for?” while Nathalie, whose cheeks were sea pink, sputtered between gasps, “Edith, I think you are just as mean as you can be!”

But the Sport was off, waving her hand at them derisively as she swam rapidly towards shore. The girls by this time had righted their cockle-shell, which they found floating right side up with the tide, and after clambering in Helen grabbed the oars, exclaiming wrathfully, “Oh, how I would like to get even with her for that!”

“So would I!” echoed her friend. “It does seem as if the imp himself was in that girl sometimes. But wait, I’ll get one on her yet, see if I don’t.”

Full of the ozone of the forest and animated by that spirit of exploration that always inspires one in a new place, directly after lunch the Pioneers with staffs, knapsacks, and note-books, lined up for an afternoon tramp. To vary the adventure it had been decided to name it a salmagundi hike, which meant a tramp of observation, each girl aiming to see how many things she could observe, birds, animals, flowers, or leaves, in fact, anything that was to be seen in the field or woods.

Nathalie had prepared for the expedition in glad anticipation, being particularly anxious to get in touch with so many things that she lacked of nature’s many lores, but when she caught sight of the disappointed face of Nita, who was not, as yet, equal to a hike her spirits sank to zero.

Somehow her conscience would not be downed as it urged her to atone in some way to Nita for the many things that she was forced to be deprived of in her young girlhood. “No, I do not believe it is my place to stay with her,” argued Nathalie’s naughty self, “for I have already given up a great deal of time and fun in qualifying her to become a Pioneer. And then if I once begin by staying with her she will want me to remain all the time, and I shall never have a bit of fun.”

But after a short inward struggle Nathalie pleaded that she was tired, and declared she was going to remain at home and have a good cozy chat with Nita.

The joy that shown on Nita’s face at this declaration compensated her for her sacrifice, and she was just trying to think what she could do to make the time pass pleasantly for the girl when a sudden loud shout sounded from the woods. Before the girls could question as to what it was a chorus of boyish voices were heard shouting:

“Ready!Ready!Scout!Scout!Scout!
Goodturndaily.Shout!Shout!Shout!”

For one moment the girls stared in dazed amazement, why—oh! that was the salute call of the Westport Scouts! But all thought came to an end a minute later as a troop of boys in brown suddenly appeared at a bend of the road leading from the woods. As they spied the Pioneers they broke into wild shouts and whistles, energetically waving handkerchiefs, staffs, anything they could muster, while the foremost one, no other than Dr. Homer, twirled his hat over his head hilariously.

In a few moments the scout mystery was solved as the girls stood surrounded by the Eagle Patrol of Westport, every one talking eagerly, some telling how they came to be there, while others were having great sport as they teased the girls about how nicely they had fooled them. It soon developed that the doctor and his wife were in the secret; in fact, Mrs. Morrow said that the doctor had chuckled so when he saw how mystified the girls were when they heard the calls from across the Lake, that she feared he would spring the surprise before it was time.

Yes, the scouts of Westport, who had been thinking of a three weeks’ tramp in some place not too far from the city, after hearing how Mrs. Van Vorst had invited the Pioneers to camp at Eagle Lake, had gone to that lady, and after due inquiries had made their plans to camp at the same time as the girls, only on the opposite shore of the Lake.

Finding that the girls were bound for a tramp, the scouts, through Dr. Homer, begged permission to accompany them. The girls quickly gave their assent, and in a short space the hikers set out for a survey of the land, all but Fred Tyson, who lingered at Nathalie’s side as if waiting for her to join them.

Seeing, however, that Nathalie made no attempt to follow the others, he asked with puzzled eyes, “What’s the matter, Miss Blue Robin, aren’t you going to hike?”

Nathalie choked for a moment, then gaining control of her emotions, with an attempt at a smile returned, “Why, no, I’m tired, you know we have been working awfully hard ever since we came—getting the camp in shape—” she had caught a glimpse of Nita’s keen eyes—“so I thought I’d just stay at home and rest with Nita. You know, she can’t stand a long walk.” This was said in a lower tone.

Fred’s face showed disappointment, and then he cried boyishly, “Oh, I say, Miss Nathalie, you’ll miss all the fun!” Then, as if half suspecting what might be the cause of Nathalie’s staying at home, he said, “As for Miss Nita, if she wants to come with us we’ll fix it so she won’t have to walk a step!”

Putting his fingers to his mouth he emitted a sharp whistle, which two scouts lagging in the rear heard and immediately turned about and retraced their steps. “Here,” continued Fred, “you fellows improvise a stretcher to carry Miss Nita so she can hike with us!”

Nita’s eyes began to gleam, but Mrs. Van Vorst approaching from the other end of the veranda at this moment, and hearing of the proposed plan of navigation, demurred, thanking the boys most graciously for their kindness, but declining to let Nita go, claiming that it would be too much for her that warm day.

Fred, thus forced to be content, after a lingering look of regret raised his cap and then hurriedly joined the party who were already disappearing in the winding path of the woods.

Nathalie, with an unconscious sigh, turned away. O dear, it did seem mean to have to give up that walk. It had been hard enough to win the first battle over the temptation to go, but this second one had seemed even harder. But immediately seeing that she was a great baby to let a little disappointment mar the pleasure of the beautiful day, she turned with smiling eyes to the princess, and suggested that they have a nice little row to one of the tiny islands in the center of the Lake.

This, Nita was very glad to do, and so with notebooks and pencils, and with the remark that they could have a nice little salmagundi hike all by their lone selves, they started for the boat-house.

And indeed, Nathalie and her little friend spent a most enjoyable afternoon, for, as she afterwards declared to Helen, “It was lovely and cool down on that little island with the green trees and shady coves. And do you know,” she continued, “I was so surprised, for Nita is a most observant little person. Why, she knows the names of many of the grasses and wood flowers, and the birds—she knows their names, can tell what birds are nesting in August and any number of interesting things about nature. I am sure she will make a most wonderful little Pioneer, after she becomes acquainted with the girls.”

Of course Helen had many things to tell about the salmagundi hike, and the different objects they had seen and noted on their tramp. She had taken notes and Nathalie was invited to take a peep at them some time, Helen suggesting that she might find them of some help later on. The scouts, she said, had been most kind and had told them lots of interesting things, particularly about tracking the footprints of animals.

“Well,” declared Nathalie as Helen finished telling of the good times they had had, “I have had two good times, instead of your one, for I had a fine time with Nita, and then I have had the coziest of chats with you, which has proved almost as good as if I had been with you on the hike.”