Meanwhile work went on in classrooms and on the playing-fields, in the Guide-rooms and in the gardens, and Midsummer drew nearer every day.
Midsummer weather, too, prevailed, hot and glorious. “Fine weather for the huts,” was the universal morning greeting of certain senior Guides. For one of the interests of the summer term at St. Benedick’s was the yearly erection of huts in the clearing in the wood by any of the older Guides who had obtained permission to work for their Pioneer badges.
“The clearing’s kept specially for it,” as Gerry told Betty. “None of us go there. It takes them weeks and weeks to build them; for they don’t hurry through them, but just work at them when they’re free. Sybil got her Pioneer badge last year; but Eve of the Daisies, and Jean, who’s second in the Foxgloves, and Louise, who’s a Buttercup, are all working for their Pioneers this year. And when the huts are ready there’ll be a ‘hut-warming.’”
“A hut-warming?” repeated Betty.
“Yes, and it’s to be the Saturday before Midsummer Day. That’s decided,” Gerry informed her. “They’re making a camp kitchen, too, and on the night after the ‘warming’ the Pioneers are to be allowed to camp there. Miss Drury’s camping with them. It will be tremendous fun for them, I should think; they’re to cook their own supper and breakfast next day, and act just like Robinson Crusoes. I’m simply longing to be far enough on to work up for my Pioneer badge!”
Betty certainly agreed that it sounded one of the “most thrilly” of the badges, and looked forward with as much zest as the rest for the Pioneer entertainment.
“If the weather—!” was the remark on everybody’s lips during the week preceding the great day.
But there was no “if” about the weather at all when Saturday eventually arrived. The Pioneer hut-makers had spent an energetic week. They had taken advice from Miss Drury and from older girls who had pioneered before them; their camp kitchen’s possibilities had been secretly and privately tested; their huts had received all finishing touches in good time. “The ‘hut-warming’ only lasts for two hours—from four to six,” as Gerry told Betty; “but it’s tremendous fun. They do everything, you see—baking the cakes and all. It generally takes the whole two hours, though, just to eat the meal because it’s all such fun! And then—well, we don’t stay very long because they’ve got to arrange their night camp, and, of course, they’re not awfully experienced in the ways of things.”
The “Pioneers,” however, proved particularly brainy ones that year. They advanced to meet their guests, each from her wigwam door, dressed in Red Indian garments of their own fashioning and design, and proceeded to provide a feast as pioneery as it was peculiar. Instead of tea the guests were served with a beverage which the hosts had prepared from nettles, and pronounced “absolutely non-poisonous and much more pioneery.” Wild strawberries and raspberries in limited quantities figured on the menu, but the pièce de résistance of the feast was the quantity of damper-cakes and bannocks cooked over the embers of the fire. They might be slightly doughy in their interiors and might cause the interior organs of the guests to feel slightly doleful afterwards, but “it was worth it,” as Gerry declared to Betty on their way back, when the “hut-warming” was over and the Guides were left to themselves for the night.
“Rather,” agreed Betty, but in a very abstracted tone.