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Her voice cracked as usual and Gladys had to start the chorus: "Pull long, pull strong, my bonny brave crew, The winds sweep over the waters blue, But blow they high, or blow they low, It's all the same to Wohelo! "Yo ho, yo ho, It's all the same to Wohelo!" It is astonishing how much better everything goes to music.
"I am not mad and I am not playing at being Pocahontas, but as usual Mollie is nearer right than her sister Polly because there is a good deal about the Indians in what I want to tell you." Betty sat down before the three shining candles and taking a little stick from the pile of wood near by she pointed it at her third candle. "You are to guess what my strange word, 'Wohelo' means.
She lighted the third branch which crackled and threw up numberless red sparks, after which she chanted the last verse: "I light the light of love, for Wohelo means love. We love Love, for love is life and light and joy and sweetness. And love is comradeship and motherhood and fatherhood, and all dear kinship. Love is the joy of service so deep that self is forgotten. Wohelo means love."
Why, their very watch cry, "Wohelo" work, health and love embodied the three gifts they were trying to restore to the poverty-stricken French people in this particular neighborhood upon "the field of honor!" On this afternoon, in spite of the cold, the girls had arranged to hold their first out-of-doors Camp Fire meeting since their arrival in France.
So they greeted the big farm wagons that presently rolled up with a chorus of laughs and cheers, and the drivers blinked with astonishment as they heard the Wohelo cheer ring out. There were two of the wagons, so that there was room for all of them without crowding. Bessie and Zara rode in the first one, close to Wanaka, who had, of course, taken them under her wing.
Nyoda smiled whimsically at Many Eyes, standing against the perpendicular back ledge of the Council Rock, and with her heart full of love for the girls who could get so much fun out of a kite, wished success to their cause with all her soul. Then she stood up in the center of the rock and sent forth the clear call, the summons for the tribe of Wohelo to come to the Council Fire.
Come, Veronica, roll down your sleeves and take your rightful place at the table. Now, girls, "While we're here let's give a cheer And sing to Wohelo!" And then let's dip our wheatless crusts into our meatless broth for the eternal glory and prosperity of the Winnebagos!" Dinner over, the Winnebagos fell upon the dishes like a swarm of bees and had them cleared up and washed in a twinkling.
Remember how you once said that Wohelo, Work, Health and Love, solved all life's difficulties. "Wohelo means love. We love Love, for love is life, and light and joy and sweetness, And love is comradeship and motherhood, and fatherhood, and all dear Kinship. Love is the joy of kinship so deep that self is forgotten."
Both their spirits revived when they arrived at this theory, and they returned to their supper with good appetites. "I wish I could cut this meat," sighed Gladys. Then she brightened. "I have my Wohelo knife in my handbag," she said, rising and going over to the bed where her coat lay. She stopped in disappointment when she opened the bag. The knife was not there.
Nyoda adroitly caught the spark in a bed of tinder and raised it to her lips, blowing gently to fan it into flame, while the chant was resumed: "Dusky forest now darker grown, Broods in silence o'er its own, Till the wee spark to a flame has blown, And living fire leaps up to greet The song of Wohelo." The "wee spark" turned into a tiny point of flame and the tinder burst out into a merry blaze.
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