“I’m afraid I don’t care about that kind of excitement,” said Doris.
Marjorie put her arm around the timid girl; she honestly felt sorry for her, for she knew that she could not overcome her fears.
“Doris, don’t you worry—Bob Hilton will take care of you. He’s used to the mountains, and sleeping out, and wild animals, and everything like that. But if you really don’t like the idea, why don’t you stay home with the Judson girls, and Mrs. Hilton’s sister? They’d probably be only too delighted to have more company.”
“No,” said Doris, resolutely, “I want to try it once, but if I don’t like it, I won’t ever go again. I’d never forgive myself if I found I really didn’t mind it, and that I had missed all that wonderful scenery just because of my silly fears.”
When the girls were ready, they went over to the cabin where the rest of the party was assembling on the porch. Besides the eight scouts and Mrs. Hilton, there were seven men—the three Hiltons, the two Melvilles, Kirk Smith, and a cook. It was what Mr. Hilton considered a large party for a pack trip.
The girls sat on the porch talking with the others while the horses were being loaded. The Judson girls seemed bent upon telling them all the discouraging points about such a trip.
“I suppose that this is you girls’ first experience in sleeping out,” remarked Maud, with a somewhat superior air. “I wonder how you’ll like it.”
Marjorie laughed, but she left it to Ethel to correct the girl’s supposition.
“Not exactly!” replied Ethel. “Three summers ago we camped for two weeks, and two summers ago we took a canoe trip and slept out every night for ten days—in all sorts of weather. And we have had various shorter trips. Don’t suppose that Girl Scouts—even Eastern Girl Scouts—are mere tenderfeet!”
“Indeed!” remarked Maud, evidently quite impressed.