“‘We pull long, we pull strong,
We pull keen and true.
We sing to the king of the great black rocks,
Through waters we glide like a long-tailed fox.’”
“Next year,” said Olga, “I’m going to teach you to paddle, Elizabeth.”
VII
HONOURS WON
The camp was to break up in a few days, and the Guardians had planned to make the last Council Fire as picturesque and effective as possible—something for the girls to hold as a beautiful memory through the months to come. It fell on a lovely evening, a cool breeze blowing from the water, and a young moon adding a golden gleam to the silvery shining of the stars. Most of the girls had finished their ceremonial dresses and all were to be worn to-night.
“I’m ridiculously excited, Anne,” Laura said, as she looked down at her woods-brown robe with its fringes and embroideries. “I don’t feel a bit as if I were prosaic Laura Haven. I’m really one of the nut-brown Indian maids that roamed these woods in ages past.”
“If any of those nut-brown maids were as pretty as you are to-night, they must have had all the braves at their feet,” returned Anne, with an admiring glance at her friend. “What splendid thick braids you have, Laura!”