brown khaki dresses trimmed with leather fringe.

"Ceremonial Meeting," answered Nyoda, slipping on a pair of beaded moccasins.

"What's that?" asked Gladys.

"You'll see," said Nyoda. "Follow the girls when I call them."

Nyoda slipped out of her tent and disappeared into the woods. In a few minutes a clear call rang out through the stillness: "Wohelo, Wohelo, come ye all Wohelo." The girls stepped forward in a single file, their arms folded in front of them, singing as they went, "Wohelo, Wohelo, come we all Wohelo." Gladys followed at the tail of the procession.

Nyoda stood in the center of a circular space about twenty feet across among the trees, completely surrounded by high pines. In the middle the fire was laid. The girls took their places in the circle, and Gladys, now arrayed in bloomers and middy, with her hair down in two braids and a leather band around her forehead, sat under a tree and looked on. Not being a Camp Fire Girl she could not sit in the Council Circle. Nyoda made fire with the bow and drill, and when the leaping flames lit up the circle of faces the girls sprang to their feet and sang, "Burn, fire, burn," and then, "Mystic Fire," with its dramatic gestures. Gladys, sitting in the shadows, looked on curiously at the fantastically clad figures passing back and forth around the fire singing,

    "Ghost-dance round the mystic ring,
    Faces in the starlight glow,
    Maids of Wohelo.
    Praises to Wokanda sing,
    While the music soft and low
    Rubbing sticks grind slow.
    Dusky forest now darker grown,
    Broods in silence o'er its own,
    Till the wee spark to a flame has blown,
    And living fire leaps up to greet
    The song of Wohelo."

As they chanted the words the girls acted out with gestures the dancing ghosts, the brooding forest, the rubbing sticks and the leaping fire. So they proceeded through the strange measures, ending up in a close circle around the fire, all making the hand sign of fire together. Gladys began to be stirred with a desire to sit in the circle.

When the girls were again seated in their original places and the roll called, Nyoda rose and read the rules of camp. No one was to leave the camp without telling at least one person where she was going, or the general direction in which she was going, and the length of time she expected to be gone. No candy was to be bought in the village. No one was to go in swimming except at the regular swimming time. Every one pointed a finger at Sahwah when this was read, for she had been going into the lake at least a dozen times a day. No one could go in swimming whose belongings were not in order at tent inspection time. A groan went around the circle at this.

Nyoda dwelt with particular emphasis on the rules governing the canoes. No one could go out in a canoe who had not taken the swimming test. No one could go out in a canoe unless Sahwah, Hinpoha or herself were along. Disobedience to these rules would mean having to stay out of the canoes altogether. She explained to the girls the importance of implicit obedience to the one in charge of a boat, regardless of personal feeling, and how the captain of a vessel had absolute authority over those on board. She spoke of the necessity of coolheadedness and courage on the part of the girl in charge, and ability to control her temper. She said she knew Sahwah and Hinpoha were well able to have charge of a canoe and she would never feel uneasy to have the other girls go out with them. Hinpoha and Sahwah flushed with pleasure and mentally resolved to die rather than prove unworthy of her trust. Gladys gave a little start when the canoe rules were read. She could not swim. She had been looking forward to going out in a canoe very shortly.

The rest of the rules dealt with the day's schedule, which was as follows:

    Rising bugle at seven.
    Morning dip.
    Breakfast.
    Song hour.
    Tent inspection.
    Craft work.
    Folk dancing.
    Swimming.
    Lesson in camp cookery.
    Dinner.
    Rest hour.
    Nature study.
    Two hours spent in any way preferred.
    Supper.
    Evening open for any kind of stunt.
    First bugle, 8:30.
    Lights out, 9:00.

Ceremonial meeting would be held every week on Monday night, because the girls had so many opportunities to win honors now that a whole month would be too long to wait.

After the announcements Nyoda awarded the honors. Medmangi had taken the swimming test, Nakwisi and Chapa had righted an overturned canoe, Sahwah had built a reflecting oven and baked biscuits in it. All the girls had won some kind of an honor. Gladys listened wonderingly to the account of the things they had accomplished—things she did not have the faintest notion of how to do.

Then came the elevating of Migwan to the rank of Fire Maker. Proudly she exhibited her fourteen purple beads, indicating the fulfilment of the fourteen requirements. Nyoda asked her questions on the things she had learned, and asked her to explain to the girls how much better she had gotten along since she started to keep an itemized account book. Migwan blushed and hung her head, for figures were an abomination to her and keeping accounts a fearful task. If it had not been for her ambition to be a Fire Maker she would never have attempted it at all, but once having learned how she realized their value, and heroically resolved to keep accurate accounts right along. When it came to the subject of bandaging she had to give demonstrations of triangular and roller bandaging, with Hinpoha as the subject. Then in a clear, earnest voice she dedicated her "strength, her ambition, her heart's desire, her joy and her sorrow" to the keeping up of the flame of love for her fellow creatures. Satisfied that Migwan was a worthy candidate, Nyoda slipped the silver bracelet on her arm and proclaimed her a Fire Maker. Migwan blushed fiery red and hung her head modestly.

"Speech, speech!" shouted the girls. "Give us a poem, Migwan."

Migwan thought a moment and then recited dramatically:

    "I am a Fire Maker!
    I have completed
    The Fourteen Requirements!
    I have repeated
    The Fire Maker's Desire!
    Now I may light
    The great Council Fire!
    Now I may kindle
    The Wohelo Candles!
    Long months have I labored
    Gathering firewood,
    That I might kindle
    The Fire of Wohelo!
    My arm is encircled
    With a silver bracelet,
    The outward symbol
    Of the Fire I have kindled;
    And those who behold it
    Shall say to each other,
    'Lo, she has labored,
    She has given service,
    She has pursued knowledge,
    She has been trustworthy,
    Fulfilled the requirements,
    She is a Fire Maker!'
    That symbol is sacred,
    A charm against evil,
    Evil thoughts and dark passions,
    Against envy and hatred!
    One step am I nearer
    The goal of my ambition,
    To be a Torch Bearer
    Is now my desire!
    To carry aloft
    The threefold flame,
    The symbol of Work,
    Of Health and of Love,
    The flaming, enveloping
    Symbol of Love
    Triumphant; where might fails
    I conquer by Love!
    Where I have been