on one side it ran in at the other. Nyoda and Medmangi were trying to get all the water out of theirs before getting in themselves, while Nakwisi and Chapa had theirs half empty and had managed to get in and were splashing the water out from both sides at once. Sahwah and Migwan stopped ducking each other to watch the righting process. Nakwisi and Chapa had just triumphantly paddled up to the canoe dock, and Nyoda and Medmangi were just about ready to start, when Hinpoha shouted that the Bluebird was coming. The girls looked up to find the little steamer hardly a hundred yards from the dock. "Sahwah," cried Nyoda, hastily coming up on the dock, "where is the sheet you were going to wave from the tower when the Bluebird came in sight?"

"It's up on top," said Sahwah, running for the ladder. An instant later she was frantically waving the sheet from the top of the tower. There was no time for the girls to get dry clothes on before the boat stopped beside the dock. They lined up all dripping, except Hinpoha, to greet, the newcomer, and looked on expectantly when a young girl of about sixteen stepped ashore. Nyoda advanced and held out her hand.

"Welcome to Camp Winnebago," she said cordially. "Girls, this is Gladys Evans, our new member, whose father has made it possible for us to camp here this summer. Winnebago Maidens, stand forth and tell your names! You begin, 'Poha."

"I am Hinpoha," said the girl addressed, an extremely fat girl with an amazing quantity of bright red hair that curled below her waist, "it means 'Curly Haired."'

"I am Sahwah the Sunfish," said a slim brown-haired maiden with dancing eyes. "I chose the Sun part because I like sunshine and the Fish part because I like to swim. I am very virtuous and a pattern of propriety." The girls shouted with laughter.

"My name is Migwan," said the next girl. "It means 'Quill Pen,' and stands for my ambition to write stories and things." She was a thoughtful-looking girl with a beautiful high forehead and large dreamy eyes.

So all the girls introduced themselves, Chapa the Chipmunk, Medmangi the Medicine Man Girl, and Nakwisi the Star Maiden. "And this," they cried in unison, encircling one of their number with affectionate arms, "is Nyoda, the best Guardian that ever lived!"

"How do you do, Miss Kent?" said Gladys, in a high, artificially sweet voice, staring amazedly at her wet clothes and then around at the dishevelled group. She was a very fair girl, rather tall, but slender and pale and delicate looking. "Stuck up," was Sahwah's mental estimate.

"How do you do, girls?" she continued, edging, back a little, as if she were afraid they might also enfold her in a wet embrace, "would you mind telling me your names?"

"We told you our names," said Sahwah.

"I mean your real names," answered Gladys, "you don't expect me to remember all those Camp Fire names, do you?"

"Oh, you'll learn them soon enough," said Nyoda, "we left our old names behind us when we came to camp." Silence fell on the group, and each girl was acutely conscious of her wet clothes. Sahwah looked to see Migwan and Gladys fall into each other's arms, but nothing happened. Nyoda was busy checking over the supplies brought by the boat. The silence became awkward.

"Look, there's an eagle," shrieked Hinpoha suddenly, pointing to a large winged bird that was circling slowly above the lake.

"Quick, where's my glass?" said Nakwisi.

"Wait a minute, I'll get it for you," said Sahwah, and quick as a flash she dove off the end of the dock, coming up with the spy-glass in her hand. Gladys's eyes nearly popped out of her head as Sahwah cast herself headlong into the water.

"Awfully sorry, 'Wisi, I dropped it in off the tower," said Sahwah, tendering her the glass, "will getting it wet hurt it any?" Nakwisi screwed her beloved glass back and forth and wiped the lenses and finally reported it unharmed.

"Sahwah, Sahwah," said Nyoda, shaking her head, "you will never learn to be careful of other people's things?"

Sahwah flushed. "I didn't mean to be careless with it, it just slipped out of my hand."

Here Hinpoha spoke up. "It's all my fault, Nyoda," she explained.
"I hit her with a pine cone and made her drop it."

Nyoda could do nothing but laugh at the good-natured sparring that was continually going on between those two. "Come on, girls," she called, "and get dry clothes on. Whoever gets dressed first may go to the village with me this afternoon."

The girls scurried up the steep path like squirrels and Nyoda followed more slowly with Gladys, whose city shoes made it hard for her to climb. As they went up she explained how she happened to be so wet, describing in detail the upsetting of the canoes. Gladys's eyes opened wide at the tale of Sahwah's pranks. "How dreadful," she said with a shudder, and Nyoda sighed inwardly, for she realized that she had a problem on her hands.

Gladys Evans was not a regular member of the Winnebago Camp Fire. She did not attend the public high school where the other girls went, but went to a private girls' school in the East. Early in the spring, Mr. Evans, with whom Miss Kent was slightly acquainted, came to her and offered her group the use of his camping grounds on Loon Lake in Maine for the summer if they would take Gladys in and teach her to do the things they did. He had become interested in the Winnebago group through a picture of them in the newspaper, and thought it would be a fine thing for Gladys. He and Mrs. Evans were going on an all-summer trip through Canada with a party of friends, and wanted to put Gladys where she would have a good time. He added in confidence that Gladys had been in the company of grown-ups so much that she felt altogether too grown up herself, and he wished her to romp a whole summer in bloomers and forget about styles.

Miss Kent gladly accepted the charge. Aside from her willingness to help Gladys, the offer of a camping ground for the summer was irresistible. All winter the girls had been trying to find a place to camp for at least a few weeks the next summer, and had given a play to raise the money. They had not thought of going so far away as Maine, but now that they could have the camp without paying for it they could use the money for railroad fares. Such a shout went up from the Winnebagos when Miss Kent broke the news that passersby paused to listen. They sang a dozen different cheers to Gladys and her father; then they cheered for the lake and the camp and the good time they were going to have until they were too hoarse to speak. Gladys was then away at school and was to be in New York City with her parents until the first of July, so Miss Kent and her girls came up the last week in June to open camp. Gladys had never seen the place until that day, for her father had just bought it the previous winter. That she did not want to come was evident to Miss Kent. She was overdressed and rather supercilious looking, and was not strong enough to really enjoy the rough and tumble life of the camp. Miss Kent realized that some adjusting would be necessary before Gladys would be transformed into a genuine Winnebago. "But we'll do it, never fear," she thought brightly, with the unquenchable optimism that had won for her the name of "Face Toward the Mountain."

CHAPTER II.

THE COUNCIL FIRE.

Supper, which was eaten on the big rock overhanging the lake, was made short work of, for tonight was to be held the first Council Fire.

"What's going to happen?" asked Gladys of Nyoda, watching the girls scrambling out of their bloomers and middies and into