"That must be the river!" exclaimed Nita, eagerly.

"No, you hear the water of the Falls. I'm taking you to the Bluff first. We can stand there and see the pool, the stream above the Falls and the slope that goes down to the Big Bridge. We called the Falls 'Wickeecheokee Falls' and the stream, – which really is only a creek – 'Wickeecheokee River,'" replied Zan.

In a short time the eager adventurers came to a clearing in the woods and stood still admiring the scene presented.

Just before them, a rocky ledge projected over the Falls about ten feet above the lower level of the water. The Falls were only six feet from top to bottom, where the water formed a lovely pool. On the opposite bank, the ground rose gradually to about five feet above the water, and this bank was thickly carpeted with moss and bitter-sweet vines. The woods began with a close array of trees a few feet back from the stream, the straight timber presenting a dauntless front to the mites who stood gazing at them in admiration.

The Bluff, as Zan said the ledge of rock was called, extended from the Falls back forty feet to the pathway, finally burying itself under moss and thick grass, just where the girls stood. Above the Falls the ground rose gradually at first, then abruptly, with great boulders of rock jutting forth here and there. The swift-running stream cleft through the steep sides, thus forming a miniature canyon, and, where the rocks hung over the water, masses of lichen, arbutus, and creepers suspended in a tangled riot. The skyline was entirely hidden by the thick growth of forest trees.

The sweep downward from the Falls to the bridge had been cleared of undergrowth so that the view presented – fields of buttercups and daisies in the foreground and Bill Sherwood's farm-land and cottage by the road that ran over the Big Bridge – was a most decided contrast to the wild beauty of the woods and cliffs.

"Well!" sighed some of the girls, "No wonder Zan wanted to camp here!"

"Isn't it beautiful! It is more like an artist's ideal than actuality!" added Miss Miller.

"Daddy purchased the place from a well-known American artist," explained Zan, enjoying the appreciation of her friends.

"I don't see how he could bear to part with it – I would want to live here always!" added Miss Miller.

"I say that we choose the Bluff for our camp-site!" cried Nita, going over to the Falls.

"It certainly would be a splendid spot!" added some of the others.

"Well, we'll decide that later – I see Zan wants us to continue," said Miss Miller, as their guide crossed the stream by means of great flat stones.

"The boys and I made this stone crossing – and maybe we didn't have lame backs for a week after we carried these boulders!" said Zan, reminiscently.

For a full hour more, the city girls climbed steep hillsides or stumbled down wild ravines, stubbing toes on hidden rocks and catching unprotected hair in swinging branches, until all began to feel the fatigue of unused muscles and the effect of hard shoes on mother earth. When Miss Miller suggested supper, every one turned face homeward without a regret.

"We will have our ready-made supper that I brought with me in a box, and Zan can find the milk that Bill Sherwood left in the ice-chest," said Miss Miller, as they entered the cool living-room again.

"And I'll go down cellar and fetch some preserves – mother said we could use all we wanted," added Zan.

"O-oh! goody! just think of it – home-made preserves!" said Nita.

"We'll set the table, Zan, if you show us where to find the dishes, and show us the ice-chest. Nita can go down to help you with the preserves, if you like," said Miss Miller, unpacking a large pasteboard box filled with sandwiches, cake and fruit.

Before supper was quite ready the twilight had fallen, making it necessary to have a light.

"My gracious! I never gave a thought as to light! I am so accustomed to pushing the button and having light, that I quite forgot we had no electricity out here," laughed Miss Miller.

"Oh, pshaw! I forgot, too! I just hate to clean lamps and fill them with kerosene – your hands smell so dreadfully forever afterward!" grumbled Zan.

The other girls laughed but then they had never cleaned lampwicks nor had coal-oil soaked into the pores of their hands!

Zan pouted but made no move to find the lamps. Miss Miller felt sorry, for she knew how unpleasant the task could be, so she began to say, "Zan, I'll – " when she suddenly stopped.

She quickly left the room and went out on the porch to admire the soft tones of approaching grey in the night-sky.

"What's the matter?" exclaimed Zan, running after the teacher.

"Why, nothing, dear! I thought I would wait here until you had the lamps ready," returned Miss Miller, keeping a serious face with difficulty.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Zan, reminded of the distasteful work.

As the four other girls had absolutely no knowledge of lamps and their accessories, they could not be expected to offer to attend to them. Zan turned to the teacher and ventured, "I think we can use candles for to-night!"

Miss Miller looked at her charge out of the tail of her eye and bit her lips to keep from laughing.

"I'll go and hunt up some candles. Mother keeps them on the stone ledge of the cellar," sighed Zan, getting up from the step where she had momentarily sat down.

"Of course, I have no jurisdiction over you yet, as we have not formally organised a Lodge, but I know this much!" said Miss Miller, with decision in her voice; "I would not permit one of my Band to shirk a duty if it presented itself, no matter how disagreeable it appeared to be. Cleaning or filling kerosene lamps is not just cleaning and filling lamps for material use. Don't you know that, Zan?"

Zan looked up at her teacher in blank astonishment and her lips parted as if to speak, but she was silent for a moment.

Miss Miller watched her and waited.

"Why, what under the sun would we use lamps for if it were not for light?" exclaimed Zan, finally.

"Oh, as to the use of lamps – that is another thing. Yes, even an inanimate lamp fulfils its purpose well, doesn't it?"

Zan stared off into the darkness and pondered this.

"I se-ee!" whispered Zan, after a silent pause of some moments. "Miss Miller, I thank you!" and she ran indoors singing.

"Thank goodness, I didn't spoil that opportunity by offering to look after the lamps!" breathed Miss Miller, gratefully, to the Principle of right living.

Zan not only worked out her dislike for kerosene that very night, but she cleaned so many of the small glass lamps that the supper table was a twinkling circle of lights. As the girls sat about thoroughly enjoying the first meal in the country, Zan proved to be the gayest of the party. Several times she met the smile in Miss Miller's eyes and felt well rewarded for learning her first lesson in Woodcraft – even if it was the overcoming of distaste of a given duty!

The four other girls were appointed dish-washers but Jane demurred. "It's so dark and we're tired – why can't the dishes wait for morning light!"

"The morning has work of its own – any one who would eat must earn! You may leave the dishes till morning if you choose but then there will be no breakfast for that one who shirks!" said Miss Miller, a suggestion of authority in her tones.

"But we're out for fun! We don't want to have to do things unless we feel like it," argued Jane.

"I suppose you will say, 'the horrid old thing! She's just as mean as she used to be at school,' if I insist and teach you why a task must be done at the time given," ventured Miss Miller.

Jane flushed uncomfortably for she had entertained a faint suggestion of just such a thought about the teacher. But she looked bravely back at the smiling eyes and declared, "No indeed! I wouldn't be so rude as to say such a thing!"

"Did you girls ever stop to consider the power of our thoughts?" asked Miss Miller, beginning to pile the dishes up on a tray.

The girls, sitting comfortably about the table, looked questioningly at her.

Miss Miller had reached the side of the table where Jane's dishes waited. She took up the plate but leaned upon the high back of Jane's chair and continued to speak in a conversational voice.

"Here's something for all of you to experiment on now! See if any one of you can speak, act, or move a certain part of the anatomy, or even breathe, without first thinking the thing!"

Miss Miller stood waiting while the girls sat and gave their attention to the suggestion. After a few minutes of silence, Nita exclaimed, "How queer! I never thought of that before!"

"But, Miss Miller, we do not have to think to breathe! My lungs do that!" cried Zan, her education along medical lines showing in her words.

"Well, much of our physical action is all unconscious on account of generations of habit. But let one part of the organism fail to act, and see what ensues! Now, I have tried to learn how to allow my thoughts to take the helm of steering my human ship, and not let the different parts of my body control me. You see the ME of myself is not in bones, blood, or muscles. Neither is it to be found in my heart, brain, or any local part of this human temple. The ME is my right and ability given by God to express MYSELF. The only way I have found to do this best is by thinking right!"

Miss Miller paused to look around at the faces and see what impression her words had made. Each girl expressed interest; Nita incredulity, Zan amazement, Hilda keen delight, Elena vaguely reaching out for more, Jane intelligent understanding.

"What has all this to do with washing dishes?" asked Nita.

"I am leading up to that; I wish this Band to start at the very beginning to do things right. To do this, we must not do anything thoughtlessly, so the action of our thought on everything about us ought to be thoroughly understood. Anxious thought always produces undesirable effects, just as good, optimistic ones produce harmony and happy results. If one spends anxious thought on the body, or any particular function of the physical organism, that part feels the effect of the quality of thought and responds accordingly."

"But, Miss Miller, you just said we ought to think of our breathing and walking and acting – now you say our thoughts will interfere with those actions!" wondered Elena.

"Perhaps you did not quite get the meaning of my words, dear. I meant to convey to you that no action of the body could take place without YOU – the thinking part of you. When a dead body cannot move, or speak, or breathe, it is not due to anything lacking in bones, flesh, or muscles – they are just the same as in life. It is because the thought that operates and controls the temple is gone. Because functions of the body operate mechanically in response to your thought, I say, let them work freely and without interference just as long as they work harmoniously. But do not give any cause for action to be impeded. Never permit fear to enter your thought, as that instantly clogs the machinery of the body. Never waste valuable thought in wondering how to beautify your face, massaging for wrinkles, or leanness or flesh. That only makes matters worse, for instantly your thought carries its effect to the parts you worry over. Let good health and simple living bring about the desired results, and they will be lasting. But girls, I did not intend to give you all this preaching the first night, only I had to correct Jane's tendency to think wrong about dish-washing."

"Now, Miss Miller, how evasive!" laughed Jane, thinking the teacher was joking. "Dish-washing had nothing to do with your theory on thinking."

"Surely you can't expect me to continue the harangue!" returned Miss Miller, starting for the kitchen with a pile of dishes.

"I want to have you apply the lesson to my particular failure to think right about dish-washing!" laughed Jane, eagerly.

"Yes, yes! We all want to hear just how you can do it!" added the other girls.

"Why, just this, dears. We have had our food to nourish the body that must act at the suggestion of thought, and for this blessing we are grateful; for a weak, or impoverished body does not respond to the command of thought, no matter how willing it may be to act. After filling the receptacle for food one should not give way to lethargy – a common fault and inclination. Lethargy forms fat and soft muscles! Express your thanks to your thought and the benefit food gives the body, by obeying whatever dictates thought gives you for the perfect circulation of conditions. The dish-washing is a natural sequence of events following supper. So, I interpret it that thought has this work for us to do which will be sufficient exercise for us after a light supper. The very sense of having done with apparent duties for the night, will give your thought a comfortable relaxation while you sleep. The nagging idea that some work has been slighted or postponed, even though you may not be conscious of its effect upon you, will, nevertheless, cause a mental shrinkage and this in turn will draw your facial muscles into knots, and also cause unpleasant dreams. One who seeks repose with the sense of having completed all of the day's work with as conscientious application as is possible to him, will always find perfect rest in a sleep that renews one's physical being."

"That's enough for one night!" cried Jane, laughingly, placing her hands over her ears and running out to the kitchen.

Miss Miller and the girls laughed as they followed. In less than a minute's time, Jane had a tin pan down on the table and was pouring hot water from a steaming kettle, over the soiled dishes which she had piled in the pan.

Every one was too tired and sleepy to sit on the porch and watch the moon rise over the hill, or listen to the hum of insects, so, provided with a small lamp, each one stumbled up the steep narrow stairway to the floor above.

Even Miss Miller's enjoyment at seeing old mahogany failed to rouse interest in the carved four-posted beds, or high-boys, and the patch-work quilts seemed merely a light covering for weary bodies, while the gaily colored mats before the beds acted for aching feet, the same purpose any ordinary mat might do.

There were four rooms on the second floor. Two large ones with double beds which were allotted to four of the girls. Zan took her own little room that had a window opening toward the moon, and Miss Miller took the other small room with a single bed in it. Just before the girls dozed off, Miss Miller warned them again that the rising hour was five in the morning.

With this last conscious advice all were soon asleep, some to roam in dreams over the hills and valleys, and some to float in mahogany furniture on the breast of the stream, enjoying the flowers and trees as they were swept past.