"What is there about you that hurt me like that?"
But the inanimate ax did not answer, and Ruth could not tell. So she lifted it again, slowly this time, and then made sure that no obstructions were in the way.
She paid so much attention to the ax that she scarcely looked where the blow might fall, consequently the blade came down almost on a vertical line with the tree-trunk. It glanced off and sank into the soft soil beside the tree, with Ruth holding fast to the handle. So unexpected was this aim and the downward continuation of the ax until it sank into the ground, that Ruth was fairly pulled over and fell upon her face in the vines and bushes.
"You mean old thing! You can stick there as long as you like--I'll never put a finger on you again!" cried the ax-scout, as she got up and felt of the scratches on her face.
"What's the matter, Ruth?" called Mrs. Vernon, seeing the girl slowly returning to camp without the ax.
"That tool is too heavy for me to use. Have you a hatchet or something else to cut with?"
"The ax is the only thing that ought to be used on a small tree; the saw is for thicker trunks, but you can't manage it, either, if you can't handle the ax."
"Well, what else is there I can do instead of chopping down forests?" asked Ruth, trying to cover her shortcomings with a laugh.
"Did you bring back the ax? It's a very good one, you know."
"I thought perhaps one of the other girls would want to change work soon, so I left it by the tree."
"If one of the others should feel like quitting the work they were given to complete first, then they can take the ax from its place in the tool-chest. Better bring it to me now, Ruth."
As no other alternative was open, she went back to the tree and kicked viciously at the ax. But the blade was still securely embedded in the ground and that made the handle as resistant as an upright post. So all Ruth got for her kick was a suddenly turned toe that felt lame for days afterwards.
"Oh, o-oh! _how_ I hate camping! I'm going home and tell every one I know what a horrid thing this Girl Scout business is! All hard work and--everything! No fun, no rest--just lame backs and broken bones!" Ruth fairly screamed to herself as she sat down and removed the sneaker from the foot that had tried to crack the ax-handle of hickory.