"Why, Miss Turner wants me to do it, Dolly, because I'm older in the Camp Fire than she is. She's given me the rings. I think it's quite exciting, really, taking so many new girls in all at once."
"Come on," cried Margery Burton, then. "They're all ready and they want us to form the procession now, and go over there."
"You are to light the fire, Margery. Are you all ready?"
"Yes, indeed, Miss Eleanor. Shall I go ahead, and start the flame?"
"Yes, do!"
Then while Margery disappeared, Eleanor, at the head of the girls, started moving in the stately Indian measure toward the dark pile of wood that represented the fire that was so soon to blaze up. As they walked they sang in low tones, so that the melody rose and mingled with the waves and the sighing of the wind.
Just as the first spark answered Margery's efforts with her fire-making sticks, they reached the fire, and sat down in a great circle, with a good deal of space between each pair of girls. Eleanor took her place in the centre, facing Margery, who now stood up, lifting a torch that she had lighted above her head. As she touched the tinder beneath the fire Eleanor raised her hand, and, as the flames began to crackle, she lowered it, and at once the girls began the song of Wo-he-lo:
Wo-he-lo means love.
Wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo.
We love love, for love is the heart of life.
It is light and joy and sweetness,
Comradeship and all dear kinship.
Love is the joy of service so deep
That self is forgotten.
Wo-he-lo means love.
Outside the circle now other and unseen voices joined them in the chorus:
Wo-he-lo for aye,
Wo-he-lo for aye,
Wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo for aye!