It was indeed an attractive group of girls who met on Saturday morning, dressed in their new Scout uniforms, with their packs strapped to their backs. Perhaps they felt a trifle self-conscious, but they had no need to be ashamed of their appearance, for their suits could not have fitted them more neatly if they had been made by a fashionable dressmaker.

As soon as they left the building, they formed in a line—two abreast—and swung along in step. Miss Phillips told them that when they left the village and struck the open country, they might sing as they marched.

“And that reminds me,” she said, “I want some Scout songs of our very own, and I happened to mention the matter to Miss Allen, and she offered a canteen as a prize for the best song submitted before June first. So get to work, girls. You needn’t attempt to write the music—unless you want to—but take some familiar tune and make up new words.”

The day was clear and just cold enough to make the walk bracing. The girls had gone to bed early the night before, and were in perfect trim for the hike. And they were very happy. They would be glad to welcome the new girls the following week, and make them their “Scout sisters”; but for the present they were content to enjoy this last intimate little adventure alone.

Miss Phillips had secured copies of the Nature Calendar of the Buffalo Society of Natural Sciences; and the girls had made a list of some of the February birds to look for. They had noted the characteristics of the hemlock, the spruce, and the red and white cedars, and were anxious to put their knowledge to a test.

Ruth and Ethel had been given two dollars from the treasury, with the instructions to purchase wholesome food. “We shall have our first lesson in out-door cooking,” Miss Phillips had said, “so be sure to buy something that we can cook over a camp fire. But don’t get anything like raw beans,” she had laughingly instructed them, “for they require twelve hours’ baking, and we don’t expect to make it an overnight hike this time!”

So Ruth and Ethel had done their purchasing, and had wrapped their articles into eight packages; they gave each girl a bundle to carry, but refused to tell what they had bought. And, of course, everybody tried to find out by feeling her package, but in most cases this failed to reveal the identity of the contents.

After ten minutes’ walk, the Scouts had left the town, and struck the woods. Miss Phillips blew a series of short whistles and called the girls together for instructions.

“We are going to lay a trail,” she said. “Frances, Ethel, Dorothy, and Ruth are to go ahead, and put down the signals; the rest of us will wait here ten minutes and then follow.

“Lay your trail until you come to a good place to make a fire and eat lunch. Choose a spot somewhere near good water, and be sure that you are well protected from the wind. If you can find a flat rock, so much the better; but be sure that the ground is dry.”

“I’ve never eaten around a camp fire,” said Lily. “It’s going to be such fun!”

“How will we know what signals to lay?” asked Ruth.

“I am going to tell you some of the simple ones: perhaps we shall learn those more difficult later on from the Boy Scouts. Has anybody a pen-knife?”

“I have, Captain,” said Marian, producing one.

“Will you lend it to Ethel? Now, Ethel, you can blaze a trail by cutting off a piece of bark from a tree along a path which you are following.

“But that is not to be the only signal. You can break a twig, and leave it hanging, or you can set a small stone on top of a larger one to mark the trail.

“Now for the turns—if you want us to follow the path to the right, put a long mark on the right of the tree trunk beneath the blaze; or bend your twig out straight to the right; or when you put your little stone on top of your big one, place another small stone beside them to the right—and, of course, vice versa for the left. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes,” cried the girls.

“One thing more—has everybody matches in her knapsack?”

Fortunately everybody did have, for Miss Phillips had especially warned the girls to be provided with them.

“Now,” she continued, “I want you to try to keep together; and always remember this: no fewer than two girls must travel together in the woods; but if anything ever should happen to separate one of you from your companions, and you find that you are lost, select a high, open spot and make two fires—carefully piling on lots of leaves and grass to make smoke; for Girl Scouts have adopted the signal that two smokes arising together mean ‘I am lost—help.’ “Now run along, girls, before you get cold!”

While the remaining girls—Edith, Marian, Lily, and Helen waited the ten minutes, Miss Phillips instituted a game to keep them from becoming cold.

When the time was up, they started off, looking carefully for signals of the trail. Miss Phillips told them to call out when they discovered a trail and instructed each girl to keep count of the signs she discovered first. Once or twice, everybody missed a mark, and went straight ahead; then, failing to see any evidences of the trail, they all turned back and discovered they had missed the turn.

Finally Dorothy spied a smoke in the distance. “Can that be our girls?” she asked.

“I guess so,” replied Miss Phillips. “One smoke means ‘We are camping here.’”

The girls ran as fast as they could, and soon reached the spot. Ethel had spread the big blanket on the ground, and the other girls had succeeded in starting a good fire. Ruth had filled her canteen from a spring not far distant, and offered the girls water. Frances was trying to fasten branches into the ground from which to suspend the kettle for hot water.

“It’s pretty hard to dig a deep enough hole without a spade, Frances,” said Miss Phillips, after she had laid down her pack. “Let your fire die down a little, and put two green logs on each side of it; then we can set the kettle across them right over the fire.”

She turned to Ruth. “Now what have you for lunch?” she inquired.

“Doggies, rolls, cocoa (we have that in the thermos bottle), and baked beans; and a surprise for dessert!”

“Baked beans!” exclaimed Lily, “what did Captain tell you?”

“Oh, they’re not that kind,” laughingly explained Ethel; “they’re all cooked—by Mr. Heinz; we only have to heat them!”

The girls dropped the can in the hot water in the kettle, and each proceeded to get a stick on which to toast the sausages. Soon they were eating hungrily.

“Tell us how you liked our trail,” said Ruth.

“It was great!” said Miss Phillips. “By the way—who found the most signs?”

“I believe Edith did, didn’t you?” asked Dorothy.

“Well, I found eight; did anybody get more than that?”

No one had; and Edith was congratulated.

“Now guess, girls, what we’ve got for dessert?”

“Apples?”

“No—better than that!” “Cake?”

“No—still better!”

“Pie?”

“Yes!”

“What kind?”

“Hot mince pie! We covered it up, and put it among the coals. But you’ve got to eat it with your fingers.”

“That’s easy!” exclaimed Dorothy, as Ethel handed two pies to Miss Phillips to cut with Marian’s pen-knife.

“Ruth, you and Ethel are certainly dandies,” said Helen; “but do tell us how you ever got all this wonderful feed for two dollars!”

“Well, we didn’t,” replied Ruth. “Mother sent me the pies this morning.”

“And that accounts for the reason they are so good!” exclaimed Lily. “I thought you couldn’t get pies like these at the village bakery.”

“Girls,” suggested Frances, “let’s write Mrs. Henry a note of thanks when we get back to school, and all sign it.”

“Now Captain,” said Marian, after they had finished eating, “do tell us about some of your plans for the troop.”

“Yes, do!” the others urged.

“Well, next Friday we admit our new members. From then until spring vacation, we will practice for our play and work for the second class test. During spring vacation, we are to go to a big party at the Boy Scout cabin.”

“How perfect!” exclaimed Ruth enthusiastically.

“After vacation,” the Captain continued, “we will give our play and study for merit badge examinations, and take some hikes—maybe one over-night hike—learning about trees and flowers. And, if any of you girls want to go out for the Pioneer badge, the Boy Scouts said they would show us how to build a cabin.”

“It would be wonderful to have our own cabin!” said Ethel.

“And, of course, you know, after that comes vacation and our week of camping. But nobody can go camping who is not at least a second-class scout.”

“Oh, it’s all so exciting!” exclaimed Ruth. “I’m so glad I’m a Girl Scout!”

“I’d be perfectly happy if Marjorie were in it, too!” sighed Lily.

“Perhaps she will be soon,” said Frances, encouragingly. “Let’s hope so!”

Ruth blushed self-consciously at this remark, but no one noticed her embarrassment. She hastily changed the subject. “Tell us a story, Captain,” she suggested. “What kind of story would you like?” asked Miss Phillips.

“Oh, one about the out-of-doors,” answered Ruth.

“Well, we mustn’t sit here long—the fire is beginning to die; but I’ll tell you a story of Ernest Thompson Seton’s—it’s in his book called ‘Two Little Savages,’ a boy’s book, but one which I think you girls would enjoy.

“This story is about an Indian squaw, who was taken prisoner by some tribe way up north. They marched her five hundred miles away, but one night she escaped and set out, not on the home trail, for she knew they would follow that way and kill her, but to one side. She didn’t know the country and got lost. She had no weapons but a knife, and no food but berries.

“She went as fast as she could for several days till a rainstorm came, and then she felt safe, because she knew her enemies could not trail her now. But winter was approaching, and she could not get home before it came. So she set to work right where she was.

“Can you girls imagine yourselves in such a position? All alone in the woods—no shelter, no food, no extra clothing, and the cold weather coming on fast?” Frances shuddered. “I guess most of us would soon give up and die!” she said.

“We probably would—though maybe not after we have learned the principles of Scouting.

“Well, anyway, she made a Wigwam of birch bark and a fire by rubbing sticks together, as you saw two of the Boy Scouts do, only she used the lace of her moccasin for a bow-string. She made snares of the inner bark of the willow and of spruce roots, and deadfalls, too, for rabbits. She was starving sometimes, at first, but she ate the buds and inner bark of birch trees till she found a place where there were lots of rabbits. And when she caught some she used every scrap of them. She made a fishing-line of the sinews, and hook of the bones and teeth lashed together with sinew and spruce gum.

“She made a cloak of rabbit skins, sewed with needles of rabbit bone and thread of rabbit sinew, and a lot of dishes of birch bark sewed with spruce roots.

“She spent the whole winter there alone, and when the spring came she was found by Samuel Hearne, the great traveler. Her precious knife was worn down, but she was fat, and happy, and ready to set out for her own people.”

“And is that a true story?” asked Ruth, after a silence of a minute or two. “Yes,” replied Miss Phillips, “wasn’t she wonderful?”

The girls thanked their Captain for the interesting tale and Frances led in the Scout yell.

They sang one or two of their favorite songs, as they put out the fire, and buried the tin cans and refuse they could not burn. Miss Phillips congratulated them on the appearance of the spot. “A Scout leaves the place in perfect order after she has camped there,” she said approvingly.

It was a happy, weary crowd that trudged into school that night. But after they had bathed and dressed for dinner they felt better, though, as Lily remarked, “glad that the next day was Sunday.”

“And the day after is Monday,” said Marjorie, excitedly—“and we’ll know our marks!”