"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?"