Just think what _could_ we do? Why, I could
never go back again. How could any of us go back without you? We
can't ever let you go any place alone after this."
Then after a thoughtful pause. "And to see you, too, the way you
look. Just as if you would never scare anybody."
When we reached camp it was growing dusk. Joe and Gilbert had just
finished putting up my tent. They, too, had been out on the ridge.
Though I could not help being amused at the unexpected success of
my little plan to be even with them for leaving me alone in the
storm, I was really sorry. I had not meant to frighten them so
much. They were all very quiet, their faces, with the exception of
Gilbert's, were distinctly pale, and hands trembled visibly. The
brandy bottle had but once before been out, but that night, when my
bags were brought in, I handed it to George, that they might have a
bracer, and be able to eat supper.
Later on I was to learn that the game had not yet been played out.
Again the joke was on me.
They drank it all!
CHAPTER IX
MOUNT HUBBARD AND WINDBOUND LAKE
The day following no one was astir early. I think no one slept
much. I could hear from the other tent the low hum of the men's
voices far into the night. Mosquitoes kept me awake. About 2 A.M.
I got up, lighted my candle, and killed all I could find, and after
that I had a little peace, but did not sleep much. It was then
growing light.
There was a general limpness to be observed in camp that morning,
aggravated by a steady downpour of rain; but before noon it
cleared, and the men took all but the camp stuff forward. We had
supper late to avoid the flies, the still night gathering round us
as we ate. Rising close above was the dark mass of Lookout
Mountain, the lake at its foot stretching away into the gloom,
reflecting dimly the tinge of sunset light in the sky above. By
the camp fire, after our meal, the men sat telling each other
stories till Job and Joe broke the little circle and went to their
tent. Then floating out on the solemn, evening silence came the
sound of hymns sung in Indian to old, familiar tunes, and last the
"Paddling Song." With what an intense love the one who was "gone
away" had loved it all. I could not help wondering if sometimes he
wished to be with me. It seemed as if he must.
On Sunday morning it rained, but cleared before noon, and at 11.30
A.M. we were on the river. That afternoon and the day following we
passed the most picturesque part of the river.
