Having by then finished his work, he laid things aside and for the next ten minutes watched the busy one on shore at his pleasing task. It was certainly a picture that was bound to arise again and again in Jack’s mind. The star-studded heavens against which towering mountain peaks were outlined, the lapping of little wavelets on the shore where there chanced to be a narrow strip of sandy beach, the neighboring small bunch of pines through which an evening breeze was sighing as if playing Nature’s Eolian harp in a lullaby for the lately departed day, the rocky shore line, bordering that limpid gem of a lake where he could hear an occasional trout breaking water—taken in all it was a dream, as Jack told himself more than a few times.
“First call to supper—all that’s hungry get goin’ while things are hot! I ain’t meanin’ to wait more’n three shakes o’ a lamb’s tail ’fore I pitches in. Hi! there, partner, shake a leg!”
The bill of fare may not have been very extensive, but there was an abundance of substantial food and best of all ravenous appetites to be satiated. Perk was as happy as a lark and a dozen times demanded of his comrade if he had ever partaken of anything that tasted better than the slice of ham with the fried eggs to give it the proper caper, after which the coffee came in for his flattery.
“Course I know right well it’s awful f’r the cook to praise his own work, but I jest can’t help sayin’ it’s a swell supper, taken in all. Another piece o’ fried ham, ol’ pard, tho’ sorry there ain’t no more eggs at all—lucky what I laid by didn’t get smashed in the runnin’—which goes to show what a good packer I am—might even get a job with that gang o’ mule skinners an’ their loads o’ moonshine stuff.”
Never had Jack seen his chum more joyous as after he had filled up with the appetizing camp supper. He beamed on his mate and only for having laid in such a big supply of grub asserted he’d be tempted to try the fishing as there were surely trout in the lake from their incessant jumping along about sundown when insects skittered about on the surface and mealtime had come for the finny tribes.
In the midst of his chattering Perk suddenly stopped and appeared to be intently listening.
“Well, I guess now,” he remarked, grinning, “I was away off my base when I says there ain’t nary a wild animal inside o’ twenty miles o’ this spot ’cause listen to ’em yappin’, will you, partner?”
“Wolves I reckon,” observed Jack who had also caught the distant sounds.
“Jest what they be,” Perk continued triumphantly, “an’ sounds to me like they made some sort o’ a killin’ an’ are all het up with the victory. There, died out like snuffin’ a candle out, showin’ they got started on the grub. Queer what different tastes critters have. Some like their venison raw while others aim to cook it to a turn over red coals an’ chaw it while hot. But venison sure is good any which way you cook it over a real camp-fire.”
Jack saw him lick his lips with his tongue as though even the mention of that chief standby of a hunter’s feast made his mouth water. Perk certainly did think a heap of his eats, as he so often frankly admitted.