CHAPTER XI
A WINTER HIKE
A long cherished wish of the Winnebagos came true that winter, for they all got snowshoes for Christmas. So did the Sandwiches. They brought them down to the Open Door Lodge to show to the girls. “See what we’ve got,” said the Captain, with a slightly superior air as becomes the owner of a pair of snowshoes in the presence of a mere girl.
“Wait until you see ours,” returned the girls merrily, producing their “slush walkers,” as Katherine had dubbed them.
“You didn’t all get them, did you?” asked the Sandwiches, in comical surprise. It was hard for them to realize that the Winnebagos were as adept at outdoor sports as they were.
“We surely did,” answered Sahwah. “What good would it do us for some to have them and some not? We always travel together.”
The Captain had Hinpoha’s in his hand and was examining them critically. “You girls haven’t the right kind of harness on your snowshoes,” he said, with the air of an expert. “Straps like yours, that buckle over the toes and around the heel are ‘tenderfoot’ harness. They don’t give enough to your motions and you are likely to freeze your feet. See our bindings. They are made of lamp wicking and calfskin thongs. By putting your foot on the shoe so that your toes come just under the bridle and binding it fast with the wick, making a half-hitch on each side and tying a knot at the back of your shoe you can make a fastening that will hold tightly as long as you want it too, but will permit you to free your foot with a single twist in an emergency.”
“Did you learn all that down at Tech?” asked Hinpoha, with just a touch of sarcasm. It seemed to her that the Captain was trying to show off his knowledge.
“He won’t admit that we know as much as they do about some things,” she was saying to herself. “They couldn’t get ahead of us by getting snowshoes, so now they must claim that theirs are right and ours are wrong. Ours are more expensive, that’s the whole trouble.”
“My uncle told me about it,” said the Captain earnestly. “He’s been up north and he knows all about snowshoes. Wait a minute, and I’ll show you what I mean.” He bound his snowshoes on his feet in the approved fashion, and then, by stepping on one shoe with the other foot, skilfully wriggled his toe free without injuring the binding. “You couldn’t do that if it were buckled,” he said simply, turning to Nyoda for approval.
“You’re right,” said Nyoda. “We never thought of that side of it before. Don’t you think, girls, we’d better change ours?” They all agreed, all except Hinpoha. For some odd reason she still fancied that the Captain was crowing over her, and she was determined to show him that his opinion meant nothing to her.