"No, I'm not. But what trouble has he made for me, Zara? I'm going to be happier than I ever was back there in Hedgeville--and if it hadn't been for him I'd still be there, and I'd be chopping wood or something right now." "But he didn't mean to make you happier, Bessie. He thought he could get you punished for something he'd done." "Well, I wasn't, so why should I be angry at him, Zara? Even if he did mean to be nasty, he wasn't." "But suppose he'd hurt you some way, without meaning to at all? Would you be angry at him then for hurting you, when he didn't mean to do it?" "Of course not--just because he didn't mean to." "Well, then," said Zara, triumphantly, "you ought to be angry now, if it's what one means to do, and not what one does that counts. I would be." Bessie laughed. For once Zara seemed to have trapped her and beaten her in an argument. "But I don't like to be angry, and to feel revengeful," she said. "It hurts me more than it does the other person. When anything happens that isn't nice it only bothers you as long as you keep on thinking about it, Zara. Suppose someone threw a stone at you, and hit you?" "It would hurt me--and I'd want to throw it back." "But then suppose the stone was thrown, and it didn't hit you, and you didn't even know it had been thrown, you wouldn't be angry then, would you?" "Why, how could I be, Bessie, if I didn't know anything about it?" "Well, don't you see how it worked out, Zara? If you refuse to notice the mean things people do when they don't succeed in hurting you, it's just as if you didn't know anything about it, isn't it? And if the stone was thrown, and you saw it, and knew who'd thrown it, you'd be angry--but you could get over it by just making up your mind to forget it, and acting as if they'd never done it at all." Zara didn't answer for a minute. She was thinking that over. "I guess you're right, Bessie," she said, finally. "That _is_ the best way to do. When I get angry I get all hot inside, and I feel dreadful. I'm going to try not to lose my temper any more." "You'll be a lot happier if you do that," said Bessie. "Now, let's get back to the fire. I've got this water, and they must be waiting for it." So Zara, happy again, and laughing now, helped Bessie with the pail of water, and they went back to the fire together. Everyone was busy, each with some appointed task. Two of the girls were spreading knives and forks, and laying out cups and dishes in a great circle near the water, since all the meals were eaten Indian fashion, sitting on the ground. Others, who had been fishing, were displaying their catch, and cleaning the gleaming trout, soon to be cooked with crisp bacon, and to form the chief dish of the evening meal. Wanaka smiled at them as the two girls appeared with the water. "You're making a good start as Camp Fire Girls," she told them. "We all try to help. Later on, if you like, I'll give you a lesson in cooking."