CHAPTER VII THE SAILOR BADGE

Two days later the scouts found themselves encamped in a locality where the stream was particularly wide. They were to remain there until the following afternoon in order that the girls who wished might qualify for the Sailor’s Badge.

In their eagerness to pass their first-class test and thus become eligible for the trip to Washington the previous spring, the members of Pansy troop had given a little attention to the study for merit badges. Most of the girls had passed the Cook, Flower-finder, and the Needlewoman tests; and all of them on the present trip wore the Pioneer’s badge. But for so energetic a troop, Miss Phillips felt almost as if this branch of the work had been neglected; for this reason, she placed more emphasis than ever upon the winning of the Sailor badge. And the girls were equally enthusiastic.

“There are two parts to this test: the first is a general test for everyone who aspires to proficiency in water sports, and the second part gives you a choice—in showing your ability to manage a row-boat,68 a sail-boat, a canoe, or a motorboat. We shall of course all select the canoe.”

“I’ve been looking at some of the questions,” said Marjorie; “but I can’t answer them. For instance, about the right of way, and the port and the starboard of boats, and——”

“Oh, that part is easy,” said Miss Phillips; “I can tell you things like that. It’s practical demonstrations that I’m afraid of. With the exception of Alice, you can all swim twenty-five yards with your clothing on——”

“Does that mean that I’m out of it?” cried the girl, in disappointment. “Why, I can paddle as well as the rest of the girls!”

“You may qualify for everything else except the swimming, and then do that on Silver Lake,” said the captain. “Now, to continue—of course everybody knows the sixteen points of the compass and how to find the four directions from the sun or stars.”

“I don’t!” remarked Alice.

“Oh, Alice, of course you do!” Miss Phillips’s voice sounded a trifle provoked. “Where does the sun rise, and how do you find the North star?”

“Well, I guess I do know,” admitted the girl, meekly. “I spoke before I thought.”

“Bad habit that,” remarked Ruth.

“Now see whether you can answer these ques69tions. If you were on a river at night, what color lights would you carry, and on which side?”

“A red and a green light,” answered Marjorie, promptly; “but I don’t know which side they are on.”

“You show the red light on the port or left side and a green light on the starboard or right side,” the captain informed them. “And these lights should show only towards the front and sides. In order to tell which way a boat is heading they carry a low white light on the bow which shines straight ahead, and another white light higher up in the stern which shows on all four sides. If you see a green light on the left and a red one on the right, with two white lights in the centre, one above the other, you will know that the boat is heading towards you. If you are coming up behind it, you will see only the white stern light.”

“Which side do they pass on?” asked Lily. “Do they observe traffic rules, like automobiles, and pass to the right?”

“Whenever possible. But if your course should lie to the left you could signal two blasts of the whistle, which would mean that you were going to the left. One whistle means to the right. The first boat which signals is the one which lays the course to be followed, and the other boat should always answer with the same signal to show that they understand. If you don’t understand the signals,70 then blow four short blasts, which means danger, and the signals can be given and returned over again.

“Always watch the sky, so that you can be prepared in time to reach shore before a storm comes. You can easily tell rain clouds when you see them.”

“Well, we’ve had one storm; let’s hope that we won’t have another,” said Doris.

“Still, that didn’t hurt us much,” said Miss Phillips. “Listen,” she continued, “here’s a good one for Ruth and Lily: Why is it dangerous to move about or stand in a canoe?”

“We weren’t standing!” protested Lily—“or even moving much! We were only talking.”

“They must use their arms and hands like foreigners do when they talk!” said Ethel. “Maybe they stamped their feet for emphasis!”

“We didn’t either!” denied Ruth. “We struck a rock, and that was all there was to it!” she concluded.

“Well, anyway, you’ve all had a practical illustration of the danger of it,” said Miss Phillips.

Ruth began to be bored with this cross-examination; she had not been able to answer a sufficient number of questions herself to become interested. So she suggested that they postpone the rest of the examination until the following day.

“But we’re just at the interesting part now,” said Miss Phillips. “I mean about the canoe. And I thought if we discussed all the questions now, we71 could take the written part of the test right after supper.”

“All right,” agreed Ruth.

Miss Phillips was surprised at the knowledge most of the girls showed in answer to her questions on the subject of canoeing. It was evident that they were thoroughly interested in the topic, and, before starting on their trip, had either consulted the libraries or had talked with experienced canoeists. As soon as supper was over they were eager to take the written examination, to make use of the light as long as it lasted. They all wrote at great length, working over and revising their papers until it was really too dark to see.

Lily Andrew was the first to hand her paper to Miss Phillips, who was in her own tent. Much as she hated to solicit favors, or to seem to dictate to her superior officer, she decided that she must do as Ruth had asked, for a promise is a promise, no matter to whom or under what circumstances it is made.

“Miss Phillips,” she began, “some of the girls would like to have a tennis match—er—instead of a canoe meet. They think—that—that——”

“That what?” asked the captain, not knowing what to expect.

“That it is sort of having two prizes for the same thing. I mean the merit badge, and the cup, too!”

“A merit badge is not a prize in any sense of the word,” contradicted the captain. “It is simply a72 symbol of efficiency along a certain line. And the other prize you mention—the silver cup—was not suggested by me, but by the friend who is providing for this trip. It would be rude and out of place to seem to be dissatisfied with his generosity.”

“Yes, I see,” said Lily. She was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. “But tennis is so popular——”

“All right; perhaps we can arrange a tennis tournament after we get to Silvertown. We’ll see. But not for a prize! Now will you run out and collect the papers, for the girls will ruin their eyes if they work any longer.”

The next morning was spent in practicing with their canoes. They tried landing them, pushing them off, upsetting them, and righting them again, until, at eleven o’clock, Miss Phillips blew the whistle as a signal to begin the test.

“I’ll take Frieda first,” she said, “so that she can get dinner.”

Frieda, Ruth, Marjorie, Ethel, and Frances all tried the practical part of the test and, to all appearances, were successful. Miss Phillips refused, however, to tell them the results until that evening.

Soon after the noon meal, their things were packed again, and they paddled all afternoon. At five o’clock they reached their campsite.

“I do hope you aren’t going to be too tired for the scout meeting, this evening,” said Miss Phillips.73 “For I have a surprise for you. Something you will like!”

Three hours later, when the tired girls gathered around the camp fire, their faces were alight with anticipation. They enjoyed going over the brief, familiar ceremony at the opening; it gave them a new thrill to repeat the pledge, the laws, and the motto, and to sing the Star-Spangled Banner.

Miss Phillips gave a formal report of the money spent, and Frieda told what supplies she had on hand. Having dismissed the business, the captain reached into her pocket, and drew out a white envelope.

“Five Girl Scouts have passed the Sailor test, and are to receive merit-badges. I have the pleasure to present these badges tonight. Will the following girls please come forward: Marjorie Wilkinson, Frieda Hammer, Ruth Henry, Ethel Todd, and Frances Wright? The girls all did creditably, ranking in the order in which I have named them.”

It had never occurred to any of the girls that they might actually receive their merit badges on the trip, and the surprise was delightful. For every Girl Scout knows what a thrill it brings to sew an additional badge on the sleeve of her uniform, particularly when there are not many there already.

The lucky ones therefore jumped up happily and rushed forward, almost forgetting, in their haste, to give the captain the customary salute.

74 After the installation of the new lieutenant, the meeting was dismissed, and the girls went to their tents. Ruth Henry alone was dissatisfied; it was not enough for her to win the badge—she could not bear to have Frieda’s and Marjorie’s names lead hers on the list. This, she thought, was probably part of Miss Phillips’s design.

She resolved to get even.