"All right. Here's some good birch bark, only it's yellowish. Let's keep on till we find some whiter."
The pair rambled on, happily chatting and laughing and now and then sitting down to rest or to refresh themselves from the box of lunch which was rapidly growing lighter.
"We have an awful lot of bark," said Dotty, looking at the big bundles they had collected.
"Yes, too much. Let's chuck out the worst pieces and just keep the best. And I'd like some more of that silvery kind. It's awful pretty combined with this dark yellow to make things."
"We want to get some big pieces. A portfolio of the silvery kind lined with yellow is lovely."
"Yes, with one corner turned back and a ribbon bow on it."
"Yes, or tied with sweet grass. There's a big tree on ahead. We can get some there, I'm sure."
"All right and there's another tree out there,—that's a dandy."
Eagerly they went on, absorbed in their fascinating quest. For the hunting of birch bark is ever enticing and lures one on to further treasures like a mirage.
"We can't carry another scrap," said Dolly, at last, laughing to see Dotty with her arms full of rolls of bark and more pieces gathered up in her skirt.