That week a Council was held to decide upon the merits of the new members. As each was called upon to answer various questions, the replies were perfectly satisfactory until it came Eleanor’s turn. The report on her month of probation was not very encouraging to the five founders of the Tribe.

“What’s the matter, Eleanor—you’ve had the same time and privileges as the others?” asked Zan, impatiently.

“Oh, I don’t know as I care to join this crowd. It is always some silly deference to you as Chief. If Miss Miller was the one we had to ask permission of before we could speak to the others I wouldn’t mind, ’cause she is older and is a teacher, too. But I refuse to kow-tow to you!” retorted Eleanor.

“Humph! Guess you got out of bed with your left foot foremost, this morning,” complained Jane.

“If she don’t want to conform to our Tribe laws she can do the other thing! I have no intention of harbouring mutiny in the circle,” added Zan, angrily.

“No one asked you to! If the other snobbish girls want to be walked over just because your father has a car in which they can take a ride now and then, it’s none of my affair. I for one will not act the hypocrite for the sake of an automobile drive!” snapped Eleanor.

“Hypocrite! Good gracious! You’re the biggest——”

What it was was not heard, for Miss Miller entered and, frowning, remarked: “Ladies! Ladies! are we Woodcrafters or are we irresponsible tramps with no education or refinement!”

Everyone flushed and looked uncomfortable but Eleanor shrugged her shoulders and walked out without a word to anyone.

“Let her go—I only hope it’s for good!” grumbled Zan.

“I am sorry this incident has occurred just now as I brought with me a letter addressed to the Tribe to be read at this meeting,” said the Guide.

Not a sound was heard and the teacher continued:

“The other school girls have heard of the good times and Nature studies you are having and many of them wish to join you. Of course there can be but ten more girls added to this Tribe but many of those not selected can start another Tribe.

“It seems that Eleanor Wilson has been talking of leaving this Band and the girls told her how foolish she was when it was going to do her so much good. But that is just what made the girl still more obstinate. Now matters have come to a crisis here, for this scene means Eleanor must stay or go—which shall it be? I know certain unpleasant incidents in connection with Eleanor’s behaviour that would prejudice me against her did I not know that the girl is in dire need of the training Woodcraft can give her. What say you?”

Put up to the girls in this way caused each one to think seriously and refrain from condemnation. Then the Chief said: “We were speaking of these things with Mrs. Remington the other day, and she advised us to go slow and not act in a way that we might regret later.”

“Miss Miller, maybe if we each took this case as a personal matter and judged Eleanor as if she was our own sister, we might feel more lenient and patient with her short-comings,” said May Randall.

Miss Miller was pleasantly surprised to hear a new member express such sentiments, and she nodded approvingly. “I am glad to hear this—shall we vote to give Eleanor another trial?”

“O Chief! Let me say a word before any girl votes on a matter that they may not feel quite satisfied with but will do as the others wish them to do,” said Nita, jumping up and flushing.

“Proceed.”

“If the new members knew of the trouble at Wickeecheokee this past Summer and what a change has been wrought in me! Some of you knew me before this Summer and some did not. But let me say, that this case of Eleanor Wilson’s seems much the same in a different dress, and if I have seen the truth and been helped to a different plane of life cannot Eleanor do the same? She needs us.”

Nita’s earnest voice finished speaking and the girls realised she had been pleading for the future of a girl’s life. The Guide found it necessary to turn away her face to pretend to look for a paper in her desk—in reality to dry the sudden moisture in her eyes caused by Nita’s heartfelt words.

“O Chief! I make a motion that Eleanor be given a patient trial just as we would do if a girl was sick,” said Elena.

The motion was seconded by Zan, and carried unanimously.

“Now girls, let us write a letter to the new applicants and let them know that they may look forward to joining a second Band in November, and then we will send a short note to Eleanor to tell her how sorry we were that she did not remain to vote with us,” said Zan.

As impulsive Zan, proud Jane, superficial Nita, and indolent Elena of last Summer’s experiences showed such wonderful improvement for better and nobler things, Miss Miller felt that the efforts and time spent about “Her Father’s Business” were beginning to bear fruit abundantly.

That week the Band met two evenings for social and Tribal affairs. The first meeting was held at Zan’s house and the second one at Jane Hubert’s. Both of these places offered ample space for the Indian songs and dances enjoyed by Woodcrafters, so they were usually selected in preference to the small rooms of modern apartment houses such as the ones where Elena, Hilda, and some of the new members lived. At Dr. Baker’s house, the girls were discussing the limited music given by the tomtom. As the complaints were finished Miss Miller addressed the girls.

“I find some of our sweetest songs need a greater depth of harmony than is possible to bring out of hide, so I will suggest a simple instrument that was much in vogue in ancient days. To-day we hear little of it. Who present can play on glass?”

No one could and several voices expressed amazement.

“Zan, can you bring me eight thin glass finger bowls? If you haven’t them, just tumblers will do, but the bowls offer a better surface. I will also want a jug of water and your moist colours,” said Miss Miller.

Zan brought the required articles and Miss Miller placed the eight bowls in a row on the table. Then she placed a dab of water-colour in each of seven bowls, leaving one natural water. Next she poured water into the bowls—different quantities for the different notes. The first bowl was almost full of water and that had no colour in it. The second bowl had not as much water and was coloured red. The third bowl held still less water which was blue. The fourth with still less water was coloured yellow. The fifth was green and that was half full. The sixth was less than half full and was tinged purple. The seventh held a quarter of a bowl full and was orange. The eighth and last held but little water and was tinted black. The colours were stirred from the bottom so that all the paint was well dissolved.

“Now girls, the bowl holding the clear water, having more in it than the others, will give us the highest note, and so on down the scale until we reach the lowest note which holds least water in the bowl.

“By placing the highest note and fullest bowl at my right hand and so on until the lowest note is at my extreme left, I can play the scale just as if I was playing on a piano.”

Miss Miller carefully moistened her fingers in the water and also moistened the edges of the bowls.

“Now listen and tell me what I am playing?” said she.

The Guide lightly passed her moist fingertips around the rim of the right-hand bowl and produced a clear sweet tone.

“G!” called the girls as she looked for their reply.

“Now these?”

Again she passed her fingers over the rims of the glasses and played the scale. As she brought out the notes the girls gathered about the table and listened with surprised interest.

“Now I will play my favourite patriotic song, ‘Our America,’ and after I have played it through you girls might sing it.”

1

America, America, thou gavest birth

To light that lighteth all the earth.

God keep it pure!

We love that onward leading light;

We will defend it with our might,

It shall endure!

2

America, America, our love of thee

Is free-men’s love of Liberty,

The Spirit blest,

Which holds high happiness in store,

When Right shall reign from shore to shore.

From East to West.

3

America, America, thy seer-graved seal

Foretells the perfect Commonweal

Of God-made men;

Its eagle with unwearied wings

Is symbol of the thought-seen things

Of prophet’s ken.

4

America, America, on-pressing van

Of all the hopes of waking man,

We love thy flag!—Thy stately flag of steadfast

stars,

And white, close held to heart-red bars,

Which none shall drag!

5

America, America, in thee is found

Manasseh’s tribe, to Ephraim bound

By Israel’s vow,

Whose destiny is heaven-sealed;

Far spreading vine in fruitful field

God’s planting, thou!

6

America, America, faith-shadowed land,

Truth dwells in Thee, and Truth shall stand

To guard thy gate.

Thy planted seed of potent good

Shall grow to world-wide brotherhood,

Man’s true estate.

7

America, America, the God of love

Whose name is ev’ry name above

Is thy defence.

’Tis thou must lead the longing world

From phantom fears to Love’s unfurled

Omnipotence.

The music was played through and then the Guide began the song again, expecting the girls to sing, but they were so intensely interested in watching her deft fingers touch the rims of the bowls that they quite forgot to sing. As Miss Miller concluded the song the second time, she looked around and laughed:

“That was the softest singing I ever thought possible!”

The girls laughed, too, and Zan said: “Try us again—maybe we can voice more sound.”

Then the song was played and sung through and Mrs. Baker came in to listen, saying: “It sounded so sweet that I wanted to hear it at closer range.”

“I think the idea is charming, but of course there is nothing like the tomtom for an Indian scalp dance or Hopi Indian song,” said Miss Miller.

She then played several old ballads, the girls humming the chorus of each as she played it.

“Girls, let’s have Miss Miller play that Morning Prayer that was written for us by request. We all know the words and with this sweet music it ought to sound lovely!” exclaimed Zan.

Then the manuscript sheet of music sent the Band by a friend was produced and the Guide played it. At the second playing the girls all sang in low sweet voices and who can say that the genuine desire expressed in the words of the simple verses was not as acceptable to the Great Spirit as any scholastic prayer ever uttered by famous theologians.

“If Miss Miller will agree, we can practise this glass music at odd moments during the week and any member excelling in the performance on Saturday will have a prize—same as May’s chest,” ventured Jane. “Yes, unless we have a camp this week-end. If we do we can award the prize some evening next week,” assented Zan.

“You girls can all try but I have too many other things to do this week. Besides, I wouldn’t bother to work for such nonsensical prizes as the kind you gave May,” said Eleanor, aggravatingly.

Zan flared up but a look from the Guide calmed her again.

“By the way, Eleanor, did you ever complete your Woodcraft test of carpentry?” now asked Miss Miller, meaningly.

“Why, no—I thought I would leave the Band so I did not bother to waste my time.”

“Well, as long as you remained with us, I would advise you to finish it without more delay so we can credit up your Tally.”

Eleanor said nothing but she sulked all evening, and when the girls were ready to leave, Miss Miller said: “I am walking down your way, Eleanor, and I will be glad to have company part of the way.”

The girl would much rather not have had the Guide walk home with her for the memory of her confession at Staten Island Camp was never forgotten although she had tried to bury it many a time. So she was not in a very friendly mood when the two were alone and walking down the quiet street.

“I made this opportunity on purpose, Eleanor, and I trust you will remember why?” said Miss Miller.

“I haven’t the slightest idea of what you mean, but if you walked this way just to be with me why should you prevaricate before the whole crowd?”

“I hardly think I did that! I always try to speak the truth—in thought as well as in deed. But in this instance I felt sure you would prefer to have me word my invitation as I did rather than speak bluntly of my purpose. I believe in using the ‘wisdom of the serpent’ when one can be absolutely true to one’s self.”

“Huh! ‘And gentleness of the dove,’ why don’t you add?” sneered Eleanor, unkindly.

“I didn’t think it necessary to add that with you, as you should be aware of my gentleness in handling this delicate situation. As long as you fail to appreciate my good intentions it may be that you will understand bluntness better.”

Miss Miller waited but Eleanor made no reply, so she added:

“When do you intend telling May and the others about the theft?”

“How dare you say that to me!” cried Eleanor, trying to be furiously insulted.

“Because I dare to stand for the truth. I have waited many days now, and offered you many good opportunities to admit your deed, but you seem farther from doing the right thing than ever. Do you know that the hiding of any wrong thing is a hindrance in itself to one’s progress?”

“I shall turn in this side street unless you mind your own business!” flared Eleanor, looking down the uninviting dark road. “You may do that but you cannot run away from your own self-condemnation and conscience. And I know from the signs that you have shown, that the trouble is preying upon your mind and making of you a most petulant, disagreeable being. Rid yourself of the error and see the uplifting you will feel at once.”

Whether it was the yearning in Miss Miller’s voice or the answer to her earnest silent prayer for guidance, it matters not, for both were sweet to the Father’s ear, and Eleanor again felt the surging desire to reform and build up a different character for herself.

Quite unexpectedly, she turned and threw her arms about the Guide’s neck and wept forth: “Oh, if I could only see the girls this very minute—here in the dark—I would be so happy to confess.”

“Eleanor, do you really mean that?” asked Miss Miller, her voice quivering with hope and joy.

“Um-um, Ooh, ye-e-es! But to-morrow I will be hard again!”

“No you won’t, dear child, for the Spirit will stay with you to soften the human will! Now let us stop in at the gym and you shall write a letter to the Band that will answer just the same as if you spoke in the dark, for you need not see them when they read the words and cry gratefully over your courage and repentance.”

“Cry—don’t you think they will fire me out of the Band?” asked Eleanor, incredulously.

“No, my dear, for they know that this from you means a far greater work of redemption than if a good little girl who never had any erroneous temptations always smiled and walked obediently in the pathway all prepared for her feet!”

“Oh, Miss Miller, you make everything so good and easy for a sinner to repent!”

And they stopped at the school-gymnasium for which the teacher carried a key. And here not only was a note penned, but many an admonition was given the girl that helped her over dark and rocky places in after life.

Suffice it to say here, that the letter caused great consternation when read by the Guide to the girls the next afternoon, but she advised them wisely and gently, so that Zan’s fury and May’s resentment soon disappeared and left in its place the wish to help Eleanor in her struggle to win out in the battle between her better self and the evil counterfeit.

Eleanor failed to appear at any of the meetings that week although she sent in a piece of carpentry made for her test that elicited the admiration of the other girls. Also she sent in a Tally Book she made for her own use, and this, too, caused Elena, the artist, to exclaim, for it was as pretty as her own—and that was said to be the most artistic one in the Band.

The next Thursday evening’s meeting was held at Jane’s home. Miss Miller said it would be a good plan to begin regular work on the bead trimmings as she wished every girl to complete a handsome set of banding for a ceremonial costume in which to appear at Grand Councils.

This motion was agreed upon and Elena entered the vote in the Tally Book, that each girl was to present the results of her bead-loom work a month from that day.

Later in the evening the Guide spoke of the many ways Woodcraft girls had in the city of following pursuits they little dreamed of.

“For instance: when you are on the streets and the wind is blowing the dust about, always keep your mouth closed and breathe through the nostrils. Also keep your toes nearly straight when walking and expand the chest. In crossing a street, always look both ways, especially in a crowded thoroughfare, before attempting to cross. Most of the accidents to pedestrians are caused by people in a hurry, or impatient, and not obeying the traffic laws. When one is mindful of law one is always protected and safe. Now I wonder how many of you know the meaning of the coloured lights on the street lamps, or other places? How many girls are familiar with the signals of policemen, particularly the traffic squad?”

Very few of the girls could answer correctly to these vital questions, and the Guide explained, then continued her talk to them.

“Besides the city signs and laws every girl should know where the parks, museums, libraries, and other public buildings are located so anyone inquiring for them can be directed without loss of time or confusion—also for our own convenience.

“In the museums we can study the national costumes and customs of every nation in the world, from the collections on exhibit of different periods in history. Any interested person can find in the wonderful free exhibits, the pictures, statuary, carvings, relics, and many other things impossible to find elsewhere, a liberal education in itself.

“Besides these treasures, gathered at great cost of time, life, and money, for us to enjoy at our leisure, we also have the aquarium at Battery Park, Zoological Gardens, Horticultural Gardens, and many interesting streets and structures of old New York that one never thinks of being in existence. The public lectures given gratis every week to anyone who will avail themselves of the privilege, the great Community Chorus founded to train voices in the best music, the singers giving public concerts for all at different times each year, and numerous other sources of educational interests where you are invited and welcomed as warmly as if you paid an exorbitant fee to attend—all these places can be found by referring to the daily papers.

“In speaking of the many advantages girls had without using a third of them, Mrs. Remington mentioned that her Tribe went to the New York Parks last year and actually found one hundred different kinds of trees, a hundred wild flowers, sixty kinds of birds flying about, furry four-footed animals, turtles, snakes, and other things mentioned in the Manual for coups and grand coups.”

“I never thought of that!” declared Zan, thoughtfully.

“Neither did I. Can’t we go, too, Miss Miller, and make up our hundred for grand coups?” asked Jane.

“Of course we can, and that is why I mentioned it. Even the new members can find what they need right in Central Park. Then there is the Bronx and Van Courtlandt Parks should you exhaust the ‘happy hunting grounds’ of Central Park,” replied the Guide, pleased.

“Oh girls, can’t we go right soon?” exclaimed Anne Mason.

“Gracious! There seems more to do than one Winter can ever find time for!” sighed Nita.

“I know that sigh by this time—Nita thinks we won’t bother to dance if we adventure about the wilds of New York!” laughed Zan.

“Everything in its own place, you know. We will have as much time for steps and songs as ever, for the evenings at home can be devoted to indoor fun, you know,” explained the Guide.

“I’m glad we won’t have any extra studies to catch up with this year. When we had to forge ahead to make room for scholars last year, we couldn’t possibly have had any Woodcraft fun in the evenings,” ventured Hilda, gratefully.

“And so the completion of the new High School on the other side of the city is a blessing to you Woodcrafters,” said Miss Miller.

“We ought to have our individual Tally Books all ready for entries if we go off on trips like the ones you mentioned,” suggested May.

“Yes, and I want you to each have your totems completed so that important incidents or progress can be depicted on the pole. Besides the totems and Tallies, each girl must make a good set of rubbing sticks and the bag and other adjuncts to complete a fire set. We ought to make and decorate articles of useful furniture, to make a garment, to cook and preserve, and many other pursuits that can be best done in the Winter indoors.”

“Miss Miller, I am going to follow Elizabeth Remington’s idea. She made a bead band trimming on which the story of a Summer in camp was pictured. I shall do the same, and in symbolic pictures tell the story of our camp on the farm,” said Zan.

“Oh Zan, that will be fine! Call it the costume of the ‘Woodcraft Girls at Camp,’” said Jane.

“Do you mind if we girls make one that way?” asked Elena.

“Of course not! It isn’t likely that any of you will work out the same idea in beads as I will,” replied Zan.

“I think the plan is good and the ceremonial dresses ought to look beautiful,” approved Miss Miller.

Thus an incentive for beading and sewing was offered the original members of Wickeecheokee Band. But the new members thought they could design Indian figures and symbols that would be pretty and answer the present need for trimming, and when they had had practise and experiences to picture they could add to their bead-work.

That evening the girls learned that Woodcraft was not so much a matter of camps and meetings as of individual study and growth—and application of the highest and best that one was possible of doing.

“O Chief! Will you try and see Eleanor to-morrow and tell her of our plans for the Winter? Possibly the very fact of your seeking her to mention this meeting as an item of Tribe business will assure her that we all wish her to do her share in the undertaking,” said Miss Miller, as the meeting adjourned.

Zan sought out the wayward member although she disliked an errand like this one. She reported the different plans the Guide outlined for the girls and then told Eleanor to “get busy” on her bead trimming for a leather costume.

“Dear me, it is nothing but work, work, work, in your Lodge. Now I heard from a girl who is a Woodcrafter in Plainfield, and she says they have the jolliest times! They go to entertainments, have candy pulls, parties, and almost every week they all go to some place of amusement together. You never do that!” complained Eleanor.

“If that girl tells the truth and is a real Woodcrafter she combines pleasure with advancement. Maybe she considers a hike or a Council a party, and you misunderstood her. She may think she ‘is having the best of times’ going to a lecture which you misconstrue as a place of amusement. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what some folks think or do, Wako Tribe has a pattern of its own and it cuts its cloth accordingly,” replied Zan, not too humbly, for she felt impatient at the reception given her message from Miss Miller.

Eleanor shrugged her shoulders and Zan left her without another word, both feeling the occasion had been given for a better understanding but the result of it was a failure.

After the meeting at which the girls realised the many free resorts where Woodcraft coups could be won, they took new interest in home-work as well. Zan completed a set of rustic furniture made of the timber from the farm, and this set of table, two chairs, and two stools was decorated with Indian emblems.

“Dad, isn’t this a peachy set?” asked she when it was finished and standing on the wide rear porch for exhibition.

“It certainly is, Daughter. Now the question is, where shall we keep it until next Spring when we can ship it to the farm?” answered the doctor.

“Keep it? Why, in the parlour, of course!” declared Zan, frowning at the implied meaning in her father’s question.

“And sell the junk mother has there to a second hand dealer! Of course! how could I have been so stupid as to think otherwise,” replied Dr. Baker meekly. Zan studied his face but his expression was inscrutable.

“We-el-1—I s’pose I might keep it in the library!” ventured she, as she pictured her mother’s solid-mahogany-frames-upholstered-silk-velour-furniture thrown on a scrap wagon.

“Maybe—I am only suggesting, of course—maybe we could ship it to the farm this Fall and store there until next Summer,” said the doctor.

“But I expect to use it all the time, Dad. Right this week I shall sit on the chair and use the table,” cried Zan.

“Then let us leave it just where it is for the time being as you need all the fresh air you can get during the fine Indian Summer weather. When the snow blows we can freight it to Wickeecheokee.”

Everyone Zan knew was brought to the house to admire the rustic furniture, but after a week of exhibiting she grew weary of repeating verbally the methods of manufacturing the set, and then she settled down to use it when at work on the bead-loom.

The table and a chair were carried to the birches still green, growing in one corner of the grass-plat, and here Zan wove the banding, her nimble fingers flying in and out, back and forth, as the bead trimming began to take on unique and pretty pictures of camp-life.

Now and then some of the other girls would join Zan and work on the looms, and at these visits tongues would talk of the many plans for Tribe activities that Winter.

“Do you see any improvement in Eleanor?” asked Jane, one day.

“Funny that you should ask me that. I asked Miss Miller the same thing this morning,” replied Zan.

“What did she say?” from Jane.

“She thought the change wrought for the better was more mental and spiritual than in material expression, but the results were bound to be apparent to everyone in time.”

“Guess it will be a long time, then!” retorted Jane.

“Miss Miller says we mustn’t feel that way about it. That we are killing the frail child of a weak but higher aspiration. If we train our thoughts to consider the motives and yearnings for a more harmonious life that the girl must have, we will not condemn and criticise her acts. It is the human judgment of things that makes obstacles in the road of one’s advancement, she told me.”

“Dear me, I wish I was as good and wise as Miss Miller,” sighed Jane, gazing skyward.

“Say, you’re not the only one holding a mortgage on that wish! Every blessed girl of Wako Tribe tries to copy the model Guide,” said Zan, smilingly, as she remembered Fiji’s words: “If you knew as much as your Guide, what a wonderful sister you would be.”

Miss Miller had reports to make out that week-end so there was no hope of camping, but the girls felt they had so much to do in the city that the outing would not be missed. A plan was made for the following week, however, to camp on the Palisades. The Guide invited the girls to meet her for a short time in the gymnasium that Friday, to decide upon a location for the camp.

Miss Miller was not in the room when the girls gathered together, but she came in shortly afterward. Her face beamed with pleasant news and Zan immediately said:

“We know from your expression that you know something good!”

“Yes, I do, and the letter just came on the last mail. I just received the pass for our Band admitting us to the lectures and cinematograph pictures given at the National Museum of History in New York. They start next week and the course, which is on Indian Crafts and Folk Lore beginning with the Zuni Indians, will be of great interest and help to us. I want every one of you girls to try and attend these lectures with me, so better ask permission from your parents.”

“Oh, that is good news!” cried Elena.

“We sure are indebted to you, Miss Miller, for all the trouble you take for our enjoyment,” added Zan.

The other girls expressed their gratitude, too, and then the talk centered on the expectations of what these lectures would bring forth. Miss Miller saw the condition that often exists when folks are given something to look forward to in the near future—their thoughts fill with outlines and ideas of that which is to be, instead of living and making the best of that which is offered at the immediate present. The wise Guide knew that this form of mental picturing and outlining of things, still misty and indistinct to the individual, was an undesirable state of imagination so she quickly changed the current of their thoughts by saying:

“Girls, I have an odd Indian legend founded on the constellation of ‘Charles Wain.’ Want to hear it?”

Naturally every girl cried for the story and they sat down in a circle to listen.