“It was that blow on the head,” declared the Guardian, “And yet maybe it was a good thing for you, for with your water-soaked clothing you might have tried to swim and have failed. I shall take into consideration what you girls did in the emergency, though,” she went on, “and it will count when you come up for the next step in the Camp Fire ritual. But you must not forget the twenty elective honors. “You can choose from health, home, nature, camp or hand craft, business or patriotism,” she went on. “I suggest camp-craft nature-lore or hand-craft while you are here in the woods. You will have time enough for the others when we go back to Middleford. “Oh, I don’t ever want to go back—not in such lovely weather as this,” exclaimed Alice. “It is perfect here.” “And so restful,” added Mabel, who was darning some stockings, with a green apple to bring the holes up into rounded relief. “I know what I’m going to do!” exclaimed Natalie, as she went in the main tent, to come out presently with a big apron over her brown suit. “Wash the dishes?” asked Mabel, for they had only eaten a light lunch that day, and the utensils had been left until after the night meal. “No, I’m going to see if that red clay can be modeled into anything like a vase,” said Natalie, for near the drinking spring they had found a bed of sticky clay a day or so before, and Natalie had brought a sample to camp. Soon she was busily engaged in mixing it with water, and then the others watched her curiously as she moulded it into a rudely-formed but not inartistic vase of the Navajo style. “Fine!” cried Mrs. Bonnell, when it was finished. “Now if you can bake it in the fire, you’ll have something really pretty.” “I’m going to try,” said Natalie. “But I think I’ll make a pit first, build a fire in that, and then, when the embers are hot, I’ll cover the vase with them. It will have to dry a bit in the sun first, anyhow,” and she set her creation down in a warm spot while she looked for something with which to dig the fire hole. “There was a shovel around somewhere,” suggested Mabel. “I saw Marie have it last.” “I used it to dig some ferns with,” the latter admitted, “but I put it back under the tent platform.” “It isn’t there,” said Natalie, after a search. “But I can use the hatchet,” and with that she began to dig. When she had her pit-fire made, however, she found that her vase was still to soft to bake, so she decided to let it stand until the next day. “Let’s all make something,” suggested Marie, and soon the four were well daubed with the red clay, that lent itself so readily to moulding. The boys came back just before supper, tired and hungry and they quickly accepted an invitation of the Camp Fire Girls to take “pot-luck” with them. “Did you find the Gypsy camp?” asked Mabel eagerly. “Not a trace of it,” replied Blake. “Old Hanson thought he knew where it was, but we tramped miles and miles, and never saw the smoke of their fires.”