The door of one of the hunting lodges stood wide open. Phil put down her fawn on a mound of soft grass and flashed cheerfully in. "Here I am at last, hungry as a bear!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad to be at home again."
Eleanor and Miss Jenny Ann were bending over the fireplace, stirring something savory in a big iron pot.
Lillian was putting the finishing touches to the small kitchen table, which had been transferred from the houseboat to the center of one of the cabin rooms. In the middle she had placed a great bunch of scarlet berries and wild sumach leaves. At one end was a dish of roasted chestnuts, cracked hickory nuts and walnuts. On the other, piled on a plate of leaves, were a few wild fruits that Eleanor had been able to find that morning.
The single dirty room which the houseboat party discovered had now been transformed. This lodge was now used for the living quarters of the houseboat derelicts, the other little house for their sleeping apartment. The hemlock beds had been swept away, and the whole place scrubbed as clean as possible.
The room was bright with the October sunlight. The walls were hung with trophies of the woods, branches of scarlet leaves and vines of wild clematis. In one corner of the room the big wood basket was filled with nuts of every kind, gathered after the first frost, the girls' sole provision against the winter. A string of fresh fish, Madge's and Lillian's morning catch, was floating about in a bucket of fresh water.
The girls gathered around the table. Miss Jenny Ann lifted up the great iron pot and poured a savory stew into a great bowl.
"Guess what it is, Phil?" cried Madge. The dish was filled with potatoes, brought over from the houseboat larder, and big pieces of a dark, rich looking meat.
Phil shook her head. "I can't guess. I'd rather eat," she replied.
"It's old 'Marse Terrapin.' Don't you remember him in the story of Uncle Remus? Lillian and I found him strolling along the shore. Who says we are not full-fledged Crusoes?"