“No ice to be packed in the balls, remember!” warned the Guide, trying to be severe.
“Of course not!” agreed Bobby Baker.
“And no hard-packed snow, either. Just the soft feathery kind that gets down your back and blinds your eyes,” added Miss Miller, knowing well how to disguise her advice and make it sound enticing to the boys.
It took full two hours to complete the great fort and build refuges like pockets in the snow-wall, where daring scouts venturing away from the army could find temporary protection. While the boys were building the fort the girls rolled great piles of snow ammunition for both sides to use when the battle should rage.
Then came the commandeering of the two sides. Fred gallantly offered his services to Wako Tribe, while Fiji Baker undertook to command the boys’ side. As there were but eleven girls and seventeen boys, some of the surplus male contingent had to come over to join the girls’ side.
Then began preliminary tactics, followed by an engagement of the main armies. This was followed by the most active fighters running back and forth to plant a well-aimed shot whenever they discovered an unprotected head or body for a target. The battle waged for more than an hour, first one side winning a victory, then the other side, but at last Fiji’s side showed signs of defeat, and soon was retreating at full speed. The shots fell so fast and furious at that, that the boys were almost routed when Fiji made a grand rally.
To have it said that a lot of girls were victorious over the Black Bears or Grey Foxes was not to be thought of, so the General spurred his fighters back again to try and win the lost trench, but Fred was a fine general, too, and he was quick to take advantage of the other’s mistake in leaving the protection of the fort.
In less than half an hour’s time after Fiji rallied his men, the fort was demolished, most of Fiji’s men were prisoners, and the girls were triumphant! The captives then had to submit to having their faces well washed in the soft cold snow.
That was a glorious day and one to be remembered, for not only were merry faces as red as Baldwin apples and hands swollen and purple from handling much snow, but the Remington larder suffered from such secret raids that the cook finally stumped up to the library to “give notice.”
Mose intercepted her, however, and tried to pacify her with the news that the visitors would soon go home, and “anyway, Thanksgivin’ onny comes once a year, Maria!”