was
rising over the lake. No, there were two suns, one in the lake
which was making it boil and send up clouds of steam, and another
in the sky which was drawing up the vapor. Soon the bugle blew
and the camp woke to activity.

With a whoop the girls made for the lake for their morning
plunge. "Gladys!" said Nyoda, "what is the matter with your
face?" On each cheek, as well as on her nose and forehead, there
was a daub of red.

Sahwah stared, then she giggled. "I thought it was Migwan beside
me," she explained. "Excuse me, Gladys, I didn't mean to
decorate you." Gladys, however, evidently thought differently,
for she was decidedly cool to Sahwah from then on.

Just before breakfast the girls assembled on the high cliff to
sing the morning song. Their choice was Rousseau's beautiful
hymn,

"When the mists have rolled in splendor
From the beauty of the hills."

The mist curtains were rolling up from the lake in the morning
sun, disclosing the lofty brow of Mount Washington in the
distance, and the girls felt very near to God and Nature as they
sang the inspired words.

Breakfast was cooked in the open and consisted of fruit, pancakes
and cocoa. Hinpoha heroically passed up both the pancakes and the
cocoa and contented herself with one piece of dry toast.

The hike proceeded in order just as on the previous day. Right
after breakfast the ponchos were rolled and the pathfinders
struck the trail through the woods. The first note left by them
read: "10:30. First rest. 'Ware the pest!"

"Wonder what they meant by that?" said Hinpoha to Migwan. They
soon found out. At the last blaze the path dipped into dense
woods. From all sides rose a cloud of mosquitoes which settled
on every exposed portion of their persons and stung viciously.
"Ooo, wow!" they cried, breaking into a run and brushing the
mosquitoes off with branches. Before they entered the next
woods they stripped the bark off a fallen birch log and made
leggings of it, tying them on with their handkerchiefs.

Migwan made up a song as they went along and taught it to
Hinpoha. The tune was "Solomon Levi:"

"Oh, we are Winnebagos and our color is the Red,
Over the hills and down the dales we go wherever we're led,
We follow the blazes through the wood like hounds upon the hunt,
We keep our feet upon the path and our faces to the front!

Oh, Winnebagos! 'Bagos, tra la la la,
Oh, Winnebagos! 'Bagos, tra la l