I asked, not yet grown wise,

And sought my answer in the brook

And shadow play,

And clouds that billowed in the skies.

NOTHING is more delightful than camp life. A few summers ago, a June sun rose to find us setting out for the mountains of western North Carolina. We had two large wagons with our tents and everything for our comfort. The sturdy mules traveled at a good pace, while we enjoyed the beautiful scenery. We were a merry party. Father, mother, sisters, brother, and my friend, Eunice Wood. My father had selected a delightful spot for our camp near a noisy mountain stream. The water was transparently beautiful, cool, and refreshing to drink; while the pleasant sounds, which came from its rippling, made music for us all.

Father and brother would go out hunting every day, and while out on one of these hunting excursions, they came upon what proved to be the "adventure" of our camp. Walking leisurely along, looking for game, what should they see but a large bear. Father raised his rifle, but just at that moment he saw and heard the tinkling of a little silver bell. He knew by this that it was a pet. The bear walked up to him, and so kindly rubbed his head on father's arm, just as though he expected to be petted, that father decided to bring him to camp until he could return him to his owner. The little silver bell had "Hercules on it, but nothing else. He grew to be a great favorite with us all, and as we could find no clue as to his owner, and our outing, of six weeks, had almost expired, we thought we should be obliged to say good-by to Hercules, and leave him in possession of the camp. One afternoon, however, Eunice and I went walking, and as usual the bear was with us. All of a sudden Hercules gave a low growl and got in front of us. He had heard a noise in the woods, which had escaped our notice, as we were busily talking. Just then a man on horseback came out in front of us, and Hercules recognized his master. The gentleman had come many miles in search of his pet,

out

"OCTOBER."

and you may well imagine that he was gratified at the result of his trip. Next morning we said good-by to our strange friend, for his master took him home, and we have never heard of Hercules since.

A CAMP ADVENTURE.

BY ELEANOR STINCHCOMB (AGE 9).
(Silver Badge.)

Two years ago Uncle Jim, mother, my little sister Allyn and I went from Needles, California, to Yuma down the beautiful but dangerous Colorado River in a flat-bottom boat of our own make.

One of the peculiarities of this river, it is said, is that if anybody falls in they never come up again. Some of the best swimmers have been lost in its calm-looking but treacherous waters.

We saw but few white people but all the Indians we wanted to see.

At one lonely white person's hut we encamped for about a week.

There was grand scenery. A majestic mountain rose up behind us. Trees were sprinkled here and there. The land was filled with beauty.

One day Allyn and I strayed from the tent. We climbed to the top of the mountain and looked around

OCTOBER

BY ERNST WERNER, AGE 17. (HONOR MEMBER.)

us.

"SEA LION." BY MARJORIE STEWART, AGE 14. CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.)

To our left and to our right were great cacti of many different kinds.

The blue sky was above us. We wandered here and there gathering pieces of flint and pretty rocks.

Finally it was time to go home. Where was the rocky little cut between the hills we came up by? Nowhere in sight! It seemed as if the earth had swallowed it up! How frightened we were!

Allyn began to sob. I crept to the edge of the cliff and looked over. Yes, there was the camp but how were we to get to it!

The sides of the mountain were straight up and down except for that one little cut.

A few more minutes of fruitless search, then, what was that? Could I be seeing straight? Yes, there was the cut!

It came so suddenly in the mountain and both sides of it were so even that it looked like level ground. Oh, how that sight cheered us!

In a few more minutes we were with mother and were telling her the story of our adventure.

THE FOREST OF DESTINY.

BY EMMELINE BRADSHAW (AGE 15).
(Silver Badge.)

I ROAMED one night amid the tangled ways,
The moon in silver vesture reigned supreme,
And through the drowsy wood the night-bird's song
Throbbed like the distant music of a dream.

The soft green glade where fairies held their play
Was covered in a cloud of rosy light
And through the cloud a golden vision passed
And lighted up the darkness of the night.

There in the glade by magic radiance
Sat Destiny, and wove her shining thread,
Twining the present with the long gone past,
Mingling alike the living and the dead.

So lovely was her face, that as I gazed,
My eyes were blinded by the dazzling glow,
And when I looked again the glen was still;
The night wind stirred the branches to and fro.

The dew shone softly in the scarlet rose
And sent her perfume sailing through the air.

(FIRST PRIZE, WILD

The morn broke smiling in the clear blue sky. The stars waned thin and all the world grew fair.

A CAMP ADVENTURE. BY JESSIE TAIT (AGE 15). (Silver Badge.)

LAST summer father, mother and my twin brother, Jack, and I went out in the heart of the mountains of Virginia to spend our vacation.

We had placed our camp in a small opening in the thick forest by a little trout stream that ran past there, and where there was nothing to break the silence of the day but the whispering of the July breeze in the tree tops and the songs of the birds, and by night the hoots of the owls and murmuring of the brook.

One day mother told us that father was going out to chop wood for the camp-fire and that we might go with him and catch trout, as we were out of fish.

We were delighted with the plan and ran off to make preparations. Jack put new fish hooks on the lines and I fixed a little lunch.

We started and after a while father found a good place for him but it was not good fishing, so we left him and followed the stream, leaving him a good way behind.

After a while we ate our lunch and sat down on some rocks to talk and pick wild flowers while our lines were

set.

Before long it grew dark and we started home, for we had a nice basket of fish.

When we were about half a mile from the camp we saw something jump from behind the trees and we started on a run. When we were so close to the camp that we could see mother getting supper around the camp-fire and father carrying wood, a fence came in front of us as though it had sprung up out of the ground, and we tried to call but we had no breath left. The fence was too high to jump and we did not have time to climb over, so we just tumbled over and lay at the bottom on the other side. When we came to our senses we heard a b-a-aa-a, ba-aa-a and looking up we saw an innocent little lamb's face looking through at us. We were provoked at ourselves, for we had run from a little lamb and had lost our hats, flowers and fish.

We went back to hunt for our things, making a solemn pledge never to tell anyone of our adventure.

THE FOREST.

BY GLADYS CECELIA EDGERLY (AGE 9). (Gold Badge.)

THE violets lift their drowsy heads,
Within the forest glade,
'Tis spring! A merry little brook
Is rippling in the shade.

The birds sing sweetly overhead,
The bees hum their refrain,
And everything is happy now
For summer's come again.

AFTER the oppressive heat of a sultry August day, it was a great relief to glide away into the country, even in such prosaic and unromantic thing as an automobile. The smooth road wound before us between fields of growing corn; past pastures where the cows, homeward bound, gazed at us with meek, inquiring eyes; through forests where rabbits scurried away at our approach, and the evening breeze rustled through the branches.

only ambition

One day, while fishing in the river, the guide, who had been intently watching the overhanging bluff, said softly to us, "Look." We followed the direction his finger pointed and there, looking down at us, was the monarch of the northern forests. His branching antlers crowned his kingly head, while a pair of soft brown eyes gazed fixedly at us.

We dared not move or he might have been frightened away. How could any hunter, after looking into those magnificent eyes, kill a deer? A moment more, and, frightened by some movement on our part, the beautiful head was drawn from the frame of bushes and was gone.

We stood watching the place where he had disappeared and then paddled thoughtfully back to the camp.

The sun dropped lower in the sky and a few stars blinked feebly in the blue. The crickets chirped in the grass, and a bird sang its clear good-night. As in a dream we sped contentedly along. But after the dream comes inevitable awakening. Suddenly into the

befallen us, and yet how fortunate we were in being on level ground.

The first thing to do was to find a telephone. An investigation led to the discovery that the connections were broken, making communication with the garage impossible, so we must necessarily spend the night in the country. The adjacent farm-houses were all unable to give shelter to waylaid tourists for the night. "What shall we do?" some one asked.

Jim suggested that we "camp out." The suggestion met with applause. It was a balmy night, and we sat talking in the light thrown by our lamps until late. At last, too weary to keep awake, we spread the rubber rain-curtain on the ground and lay down upon it. The winter cap-rolls which we carried under the seat made very acceptable pillows, and resting our heavy heads upon them, we fell asleep.

How we breakfasted merrily on bacon and eggs obtained from a farmer, how Jim and our chauffeur rode into town on a hay-cart and how we were finally rescued and returned to our sorrowing relatives, will not record in detail. Sufficient let it be that we were rescued, none the worse for our adventure, and with the honorable distinction of having "camped out."

BY HELEN D. KINGSLEY (AGE 10).

ONE time when I was at Star Lake in Northern Wisconsin, a party of us were going to be pushed up to High Lake, about seventeen miles from Star Lake, on a flat car to get some of the fishermen that had been up there for about a week.

On our way back the engine ran off the track just where there was a lumber camp.

We got off the flat car and went to the camp to see if we could get our supper.

We had a friend who took my sister and me into the kitchen of the camp. The cook had a barrel full of cookies and he let us take all we wanted.

Then in springtime, little leaflets
In new green appear and blossom.
When hot summer comes how shady

Are these woods, and cool these brooklets!
O, great forest, how I love thee!
Monarch of the realm of beauty!

There were a great many log cabins. We were supposed to get back to Star Lake about six o'clock but did not get back until twelve.

The lumbermen had their supper first and then we had ours. We sat around long tables with benches to sit on. For supper we had cold steak and potatoes warmed up in gravy. For dessert we had apple pie and cake. The dining-room was a very large room with three long tables in it.

All through supper people were working to get the train on the track and had not succeeded.

After supper we went out and the people built a very large fire. On top of everything they put a barrel which had contained kerosene and it burned very brightly.

We reached home at last, in a driving rain.

FOREST TREES.

BY VINCENT MILLAY (AGE 14). MONARCHS of long-forgotten realms, ye stand; Majestic, grand;

Unscarred by Time's destructive hand.

Each with its share of peace, and joy, and tears; Of happiness and woe.

Around you all is changed-where now is land Swift vessels ploughed to foam the seething main; Kingdoms have risen; and the fire-fiend's hand Has crushed them to their Mother Earth again; And through it all ye stand, and still will stand Till ages yet to come have owned your reign.

A CAMP ADVENTURE.

BY BEATRICE N. BLOOD (AGE 12).

WE had our camp pitched way out in Colorado, among the cool mountains.

Father, mother and we children. We had been all day out on the small lake. As we were coming home, my sister and I crossed a small stream. It was beautiful! We followed it and it grew more beautiful. We rounded a small curve and came face to face with a bear! We were surprised and frightened, as it was the first bear we had ever seen. He raised on his hind legs and growled. We walked backwards until we were around the curve. Then fled in terror. We were glad enough to see our camp once more.

THE FOREST AT NIGHT.

BY ELIZABETH P. JAMES (AGE 11). (Silver Badge Winner.)

'T Is evening; all is hushed and still

Out in the forest, on the hill;

The birds have gone into their

nest,

For now 's the time of rest, of rest.

The river lieth still and white,
All shining in the pale moonlight,
While up above, each golden star
Shines forth, and does not seem so
far.

The moonbeams float among the trees,

That sigh, with every little breeze, That, tired of its last resting place, Seeks softer bed, or wider space.

And under all, the checkered grass
Makes soft our footsteps, as we pass,
And over all, the heavens wide
Drop, mistily, on every side.

A CAMP ADVENTURE.

BY DOROTHY BUELL (AGE 12).

IT was on a hot July afternoon, when papa, some of my girl companions and I returned to our camping site on the bank of picturesque Rock River, from a point farther down the stream where we had been bathing.

Several portions of our bank had been caving in, and a large tree had fallen in the water as a result of this. Its roots were firmly fastened in the sod, and the water, which was very swift at this place, formed a foamy whirlpool as it neared the obstacle.

We had intended to land farther up than usual, and as we drew closer to our little port, the current swept us stern foremost down toward the tree. Round and round we wnirled like leaves on an autumn day. Then papa lost control of the oars, the boat gave a lurch, and turning on her side, lodged herself firmly between the branches of the fallen oak.

The rest of our party stood on the banks looking at us with horrified faces, while we, frightened beyond speech, clung to our seats helpless with fear. Suddenly the cry "Bring the fishpoles!" arose and in a few seconds a gentleman of the party came back with two long poles.

Carlene, Angela and I caught hold of one pole which drew our end of the boat out of water. In a half hour, after some hard work, we were gradually pulled from our prison and reached Camp Thunderbolt safe, but greatly excited over our adventure.

FOREST WINDS.

BY ELIZABETH TABER (AGE 10). IN the shade of the stately forest trees, Amid the flowers and bumble bees,

I like to wander at my ease,

And pick the flowers beneath the trees. The forest winds are blowing my hair As I go wandering here and there.

A CAMP ADVENTURE.

BY SAMUEL J. WRIGHT (AGE 15). IT was while camped at the Grand Canyon in the Yellowstone National Park that the incident that I shall relate occurred.

I was with a party of my relatives and friends and we were making a tour of the park with wagons and

teams.

We had camped about a mile above the Canyon and after breakfast of the first morning after our arrival we all left camp and walked down to see the sights. When