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The Camp Fire Girls Do Their Bit Or, over the Top with the Winnebagos By: Hildegard G. (Hildegard Gertrude) Frey (1891-1957) |
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OR, OVER THE TOP WITH THE WINNEBAGOS By HILDEGARD G. FREY AUTHOR OF The Camp Fire Girls Series A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York 1919 THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SERIES A Series of Stories for Camp Fire Girls Endorsed by
the Officials of the Camp Fire Girls Organization By HILDEGARD G. FREY The Camp Fire Girls in the Maine Woods
or, The Winnebago's Go Camping The Camp Fire Girls at School
or, The Wohelo Weavers The Camp Fire Girls at Onoway House
or, The Magic Garden The Camp Fire Girls Go Motoring
or, Along the Road That Leads the Way The Camp Fire Girls Larks and Pranks
or, The House of the Open Door The Camp Fire Girls on Ellen's Isle
or, the Trail of the Seven Cedars The Camp Fire Girls on the Open Road
or, Glorify Work The Camp Fire Girls Do Their Bit
or, Over The Top With the Winnebago's THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT
CHAPTER I A DREAM COMES TRUE
The long train, which for nearly an hour had been gliding smoothly
forward with a soothing, cradling motion of its heavy trucked Pullmans,
and a crooning, lullaby sound of its droning wheels, came to a jarring
stop at one of the mountain stations, and Lieutenant Allison wakened
with a start. The echo of the laugh that he had heard in his dream still
sounded in his ears, a tantalizing, compelling note, elusive as the
Pipes of Pan, luring as a will o' the wisp. Above the bustle of
departing and incoming passengers, the confusion of the station and the
grinding of the wheels as the train started again that haunting peal of
laughter still rang in his ears, still held him in its thrall, calling
him back into the dream from which he had just awakened. Still heavy
with sleep and also somewhat light headed for he had been traveling
for two days and the strain was beginning to tell on him, although the
doctors had at last pronounced him able to make the journey home for a
month's furlough he leaned his head against the cool green plush
back rest and stared idly through half closed eyelids down the long
vista of the Pullman aisle. Then his pulses gave a leap and the blood
began to pound in his ears and he thought he was back in the base
hospital again and the fever was playing tricks on him. For down in the
shadowy end of the aisle there moved a figure which his sleep heavy eyes
recognized as the Maiden, the one who had flitted through his weeks of
delirium, luring him, beckoning him, calling him, eluding him, vanishing
from his touch with a peal of silvery laughter that echoed in his ears
with a haunting sweetness long after she and the fever had fled away
together in the night, not to return. And now, weeks afterward, here she
stood, in the shadowy end of a Pullman aisle, watching him from afar,
just as she had stood watching in those other days when he and the fever
were wrestling in mortal combat. He had known her years before he had the fever. Somewhere in his dreamy,
imaginative boyhood he had read the Song of Hiawatha, and his glowing
fancy had immediately fastened upon the lines which described the Indian
girl, Minnehaha, Laughing Water, daughter of the old arrow maker in the
land of the Dacotahs: "With him dwelt his dark eyed daughter,
Wayward as the Minnehaha,
With her moods of shade and sunshine,
Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate,
Feet as rapid as the river,
Tresses flowing like the water,
And as musical a laughter;
And he named her from the river,
From the waterfall he named her,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water." The image thus conjured up remained in his mind, a tantalizing vision,
until at last he found himself filled with a desire to find a maiden
like the storied daughter of the ancient arrow maker in the land of the
Dacotahs, dark eyed, slender as an arrow, sparkling like the sunlight on
the water, with laughter like the music of the Falls. Sometimes he saw
her in his dreams, and through the long weeks in the hospital at the
aviation camp when he had the fever she was with him constantly,
beckoning, calling, luring him back to life when he was about to slip
over the edge into the bottomless abyss, her laughter ringing in his
ears after she had vanished into the mists... Continue reading book >>
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