"W" was too much for Medmangi. "Wire," said Nyoda.
"X," said Sahwah, "there is no such thing. Oh, yes, there is, too; Xylophones, they"re made here."
Gladys and Migwan met their Waterloo on "Y." "Yeast," said Nyoda.
"Z," sent Chapa and Nakwisi to the dummy corner and it came back to Sahwah. "Zerolene," she said.
"What"s that?" they all cried.
"I don"t know," she answered, "but I saw it on one of the big oil tanks as we pa.s.sed."
Sahwah and Nyoda won the right to take the first paddle in the _Keewaydin_. They carried the canoe on their heads, portage fashion, around the dam, and launched it up above, where the confined waters had spread out into a wide pond. "Oh, what a joy to dip a paddle again!"
sighed Sahwah blissfully, sending the _Keewaydin_ flying through the water with long, vigorous strokes. "I"d love to paddle all the way home." She had completely forgotten that there was such a thing as school and lessons in the world. She was the Daughter of the River, and this was a joyous homecoming.
"Time to go back and let the rest have a turn," said Nyoda. Reluctantly Sahwah steered the canoe around and returned to the waiting group. Mrs.
Evans watched with interest as Gladys and Hinpoha pushed out from sh.o.r.e.
Could this be her once frail daughter, who had despised all strenuous sports and hated water above all things, who was swinging her paddle so l.u.s.tily and steering the _Keewaydin_ so skilfully? What was this strange Something that the Camp Fire had instilled into her? She caught her breath with the beauty of it, as the girls glided along between the radiant banks, the two paddles flashing in and out in perfect rhythm.
They were singing a favorite boating song, and their voices floated back on the breeze:
"Through the mystic haze of the autumn days Like a phantom ghost I glide, Where the big moose sees the crimson trees Mirrored on the silver tide, And the blood red sun when day is done Sinks below the hill, The night hawk swoops, the lily droops, And all the world is still!"
Sahwah lingered on the river after the others had gone in a body to try to climb to the top of the rocky fireplace. She was all alone in the _Keewaydin_, and sent it darting around like a water spider on the surface of the stream. So absorbed was she in the joy of paddling that she did not see a sign on a tree beside the river which warned people in boats to go no further than that point, neither did she realize the significance of the quicker progress which the _Keewaydin_ was making.
When she did realize that she was getting dangerously near the edge of the dam, and attempted to turn back, she discovered to her horror that it was impossible to turn back. The _Keewaydin_ was being swept helplessly and irresistibly onward. Recent rains had swollen the stream and the water was pouring over the dam. Sahwah screamed aloud when she saw the peril in which she was. Nyoda and Mrs. Evans and the girls, standing up on the rocks, turned and saw her. Help was out of the question. Frozen to the spot they saw her rushing along to that descent of waters. Gladys moaned and covered her face with her hands. Below the falls the great rocks jutted out, jagged and bare. Any boat going over would be dashed to pieces.
The _Keewaydin_ shot forward, gaining speed with every second. The roar of the falls filled Sahwah"s ears. Not ten feet from the brink a rock jutted up a little above the surface, just enough to divide the current into two streams. When the _Keewaydin_ reached this point it turned sharply and was hurled into the current nearest the sh.o.r.e. On the bank right at the brink of the falls stood a great willow tree, its long branches drooping far out over the water. It was one chance in a million and Sahwah saw it. As she pa.s.sed under the tree she reached up and caught hold of a branch, seized it firmly and jumped clear of the canoe, which went over the falls almost under her feet. Then, swinging along by her arms, she reached the sh.o.r.e and stood in safety. It had all happened so quickly the girls could hardly comprehend it. Gladys, who had hidden her eyes to shut out the dreadful sight, heard an incredulous shout from the girls and looked down to see the _Keewaydin_ landing on the rocks below, empty, and Sahwah standing on the bank.
"How did you ever manage to do it?" gasped Hinpoha, when they had surrounded her with exclamations of joy and amazement. "You"re a heroine again."
"You"re nothing of the sort," said Nyoda. "It was sheer foolhardiness or carelessness that got you into that sc.r.a.pe. A girl who doesn"t know enough to keep out of the current isn"t to be trusted with a canoe, no matter what a fine paddler she is. I certainly thought better of you than that, Sahwah. I never used to have the slightest anxiety when you were on the water, I had such a perfect trust in your common sense, but now I can never feel quite sure of you again."
Sahwah hung her head in shame, for she felt the truth of Nyoda"s words.
"I think you can trust me after this," she said humbly. "I have learned my lesson." She was not likely to forget the horror of the moment when she had heard the water roaring over the dam and thought her time had come. Sahwah liked to be thought clever as well as daring, and it was certainly far from clever to run blindly into danger as she had done.
She sank dejectedly down on the bank, feeling disgraced forever in the eyes of the Winnebagos.
"Girls," said Mrs. Evans, wishing to take their minds off the fright they had received, "do you know that we are not many miles from one of the model dairy farms of the world? I could take you over in the car and bring you back here in time to go home in the launch."
"Let"s do it, Nyoda," begged all the Winnebagos, and into the machine they piled. When they were still far in the distance they could see the high towers of the barns rising in the air. "We"re nearly there," said Mrs. Evans; "here is the beginning to the cement fence that runs all the way around the four-thousand-acre farm." Mrs. Evans knew some of the people in charge of the farm and they had no difficulty gaining admittance. That visit to the Carter Farm was a long-remembered one. The girls walked through the long stables exclaiming at everything they saw.
"Why, there"s an electric fan in each stall!" gasped Migwan, "and the windows are screened!"
"Oo, look at the darling calf," gurgled Hinpoha, on her knees before one of the stalls, caressing a ten-thousand-dollar baby.
"It doesn"t look a bit like its mother," observed Nyoda, comparing it with the cow standing beside it.
"That isn"t its mother, that"s its nurse," said the man who was showing them around.
"Its what?" said Nyoda. Then the man explained that the milk from the blooded cows was too valuable to be fed to calves, as it commanded a high price on the market, and so a herd of common cows were kept to feed the aristocratic babies. The lovely little creatures were as tame as kittens and allowed the girls to fondle them to their hearts" content.
Sometimes a pair of polished horns would come poking between a calf and the visitors, and a soft-eyed cow would view the proceedings with a comically anxious face, and then it was easy to tell which calf was with its mother.
In one of the largest stalls they saw the champion Guernsey of the world. Her coat was like satin and her horns were polished until they shone. She did not seem to be in the least set up on account of her great reputation and thrust out her nose in the friendliest manner possible to be patted and fussed over. She eyed Gladys, who stood next to her, with amiable curiosity, and then suddenly licked her face. Mrs.
Evans watched Gladys in surprise. Instead of quivering all over with disgust as she would have a year ago she simply laughed and patted the cow"s nose. "What is going to happen?" said Mrs. Evans to herself, "Gladys isn"t afraid of cows any more!" But the most interesting part came when the cows were milked. They were driven into another barn for this performance and their heads fastened into sort of metal hoops suspended from the ceiling. These turned in either direction and caused them no discomfort, but kept them standing in one place. The milking was done with vacuum-suction machines run by electricity and took only a short time.
When the girls had watched the process as long as they wished they were taken to see the prize hogs and chickens, and then went through the hot houses. There were rows and rows of gla.s.s houses filled with grapes, the great bunches hanging down from the roof and threatening to fall with their own weight. And one did fall, just as they were going through, and came smashing down in the path at their feet. Nakwisi ran to pick it up and the guide said she might have it, adding that such a bunch, unbruised, sold for twenty-five cents in the city market. "Oh, how delicious!" cried Nakwisi," tasting the grapes and dividing them among the girls. Mrs. Evans bought a basketful and let them eat all they wanted. In some of the hothouses tangerines were growing, and in some persimmons, while others were given over to the raising of roses, carnations and rare orchids. It was a trip through fairyland for the girls, and they could hardly tear themselves away when the time came.
"There is something else I must show you while we are in the neighborhood," said Mrs. Evans, as they pa.s.sed through Akron. "Does anybody know what two historical things are near here?" n.o.body knew.
Mrs. Evans began humming, "John Brown"s Body Lies A-mouldering in the Grave."
"What has that to do with it?" asked Gladys.
"Everything, with one of them," said Mrs. Evans.
"Did you know that John Brown, owner of the said body, was born in Akron, and there is a monument here to his memory?"
"Oh how lovely," cried Migwan, "let us see it." So Mrs. Evans drove them over to the monument and they all stood around it and sang "John Brown"s Body" in his honor.
"Now, what"s the other thing?" they asked.
"I believe I know," said Nyoda. "Doesn"t the old Portage Trail run through here somewhere?"
"That"s it," said Mrs. Evans.
Then Nyoda told them about the Portage Path of Indian days, before the ca.n.a.l was built, that extended from Lake Erie to the Ohio River. "The part that runs through Akron is still called Portage Path," said Mrs.
Evans, and the girls were eager to see it.
"Why, it"s nothing but a paved street!" exclaimed Migwan in disappointment, when they had reached the historical spot.
"That"s all it is now," answered Mrs. Evans, "but it is built over the old Portage Trail, and some of these old trees undoubtedly shaded the original path." In the minds of the girls the handsome residences faded from sight, and in place of the wide street they saw the narrow path trailing off through the forest, with dusky forms stealing along it on their long journey southward.
"It"s time to strike our own trail now," said Nyoda, breaking the silence, and they started back to the river. Every one was anxious to make it as pleasant as possible for Hinpoha, and the jests came thick and fast as they drove along. "Who is the best Latin scholar here?"
asked Nyoda.
"I am," said Sahwah, mischievously.
"Then you can undoubtedly tell me what Caesar said on the Fourth of July, 45 B.C." said Nyoda.
"I don"t seem to recollect," said Sahwah.
"Then read for yourself," said Nyoda, scribbling a few words on a leaf from her notebook and handing it to her.
"What"s this?" said Sahwah, spelling out the words. On the paper was written,
_Quis crudis enim rufus, albus et expiravit._
Sahwah tried to translate. "_Quis,_ who; _crudis_, raw; _enim_--what"s _enim_?"
"For," answered Migwan.
"And _expiravit_" said Sahwah, "what"s that from?"