“Holy sufferin’ cats!” bellowed Shirttail Henry.
Even Andy and Dr. Shonto laughed at the girl’s naïve assurance.
“You’ve been reading fantastic fiction, Charmian,” said Andy. “That’s a pipe dream.”
“Perhaps,” half conceded the young widow, unperturbed. She turned her brown eyes on Henry again. “But why climb to the peak of Dewlap Mountain merely to gain a view of the valley?” she asked. “Why not circle the mountain when we reach it and try for the valley itself?”
“Too late in th’ season,” Henry maintained. “Th’ snow she’d ketch us, ma’am.”
“I’m not afraid of snow. I’ve roughed it in Alaska. Any snow you’d have here would be a joke, compared with what I’ve experienced.”
“Pretty cold joke sometimes,” Henry remarked. “But I been thinkin’ ag’in, ma’am: Reed he always tried to make th’ riffle in summer, an’ then th’ snow over thataway’s deepest. An’ in winter blizzards are blowin’, an’ ye can’t do nothin’. Same as in th’ case o’ gettin’ to th’ top o’ Dewlap, right now would be th’ easiest time to tackle th’ valley trip, after th’ snow’s melted all summer long. I guess Reed thought o’ that, but was afraid to tackle her with winter comin’ on. If a body got ketched in that country after th’ blizzards started— Say, none o’ that in mine! He’d never come out, that’s all.”
“Nonsense!” scoffed the girl. “The chances are that Reed didn’t have enough money to properly equip himself for a trip of that nature.”
“No, Reed he ain’t got anything but his pay from th’ gov’ment—same as me. An’ th’ boys that tackled th’ trip with him two three times, they never had nothin’. If a body could get enough supplies in th’ country to stand a siege, come blizzard time, he might get through to th’ valley between storms. He’d want skis or snowshoes, though—and a heap o’ grub an’ things. Once he made th’ valley everything’d be jake. It’s like summer down in there, I’m thinkin’.”
“I can ski,” Charmian announced. “So can Mary Temple. How about the rest of you?”