arance
as the wilderness always is. Now and then a privately owned island,
improved by landscape gardening into a modern summer estate, offered
contrast to the wilder isles.

The girls spent most of the day in getting settled. No work on the new
picture could be done for a couple of days, and Helen, naturally, looked
for amusement. There were canoes as well as motor boats, and both the
chums were fond of canoeing. Wonota, of course, was mistress of the
paddle; and with her the two white girls selected a roomy canoe and set
out toward evening on a journey of exploration among the closer islands.

One of the largest islands in the group was in sight--Grenadier Island;
but that they learned was beyond the American line. They saw it only from
a distance, keeping close to the New York shore as they did on this brief
voyage. The tall tamaracks and the other trees crowded some of the
islands until they seemed veritable jungles.

Some few, however, were bold and precipitous in the extreme. "Just the
sort of place for pirate dens and robber caves," Helen declared,
shivering gleefully.

"What a romantic puss you are," laughed Ruth.

"Well, those cracks in the rock yonder look so dark and dismal. And there
_might_ be dark-skinned men with red bandanas bound around their heads,
and knives in their belts, along with the rest of the scenery, Ruthie,"
complained Helen.

Wonota stared at her. "Do you mean, Miss Helen, that there are
cholos--are greasers--in these woods? My geography book that I study
shows this country to be far, far from Mexico."

"Oh, my aunt!" chuckled Helen. "She thinks nobody but Mexicans can wear
gay handkerchiefs bound about their noble brows. Wait till you see
sure-enough pirates--"

"That is perfect nonsense, Wonota," said Ruth, warningly. "Helen is only
in fun."

"Ah," said the practical Indian maid, "I understand English--and
American; only I do not always grasp the--er--humor, do you call it?"

"Good!" applauded Ruth. "Serves you right, Helen, for your silly
nonsense."

"The Indians' fun is different," explained Wonota, not wishing to offend
the white girl.

"You are a pair of old sober-sides, that is what is the matter," declared
Helen gaily. "Oh, Ruth! drive the canoe ashore yonder--on that rocky
beach. Did you ever see such ferns?"

They brought the canoe carefully in to the shore, landing on a sloping
rock which was moss-grown above the mark of the last flood. Ruth fastened
the tow-rop