This latter pleased Dr. Byrd very well, for it expressed his purpose in a few words, to develop in his pupils a liberal supply of common sense.
CHAPTER III
A FALL FROM THE AIR
That was the history of Mummy Cañon, Flathead Mountain and Lakefarm Institute. The mountain was partly visible from the school. On their return to the farm from Mummy Cañon the Boy Scouts would have to walk on through the cañon, past old Flathead, and up the stream that came dashing noisily down from Lakefarm and joined Flathead River north of the big gorge.
The peakless mountain was located near the lower end of the cañon, and it was from a bluff on the mountain side that the “mummy” stood forth. Before the sun went down the Scouts could see the outlines of this freak of nature from their position at the camp fire, but as it sank beneath the high horizon and the cañon grew dark, both the bluff and the “mummy” were lost to view. But presently the moon rose over Old Flathead.
Under such circumstances Hal Kenyon began his legend of the cañon, relating it as follows:
“Flathead Mountain was once a giant. He was the biggest giant that ever lived. His name wasn’t Flathead then. His head ran up to a peak, and the people called him Sugar Loaf.
“But his heart was made of stone, the hardest kind, and his brains were all up in the peak of his head. And those brains didn’t amount to much, for they had such a small place to rest in that they were squeezed into half their natural size.
“And since he didn’t have much brains and his heart was made of stone, he was a cruel giant. He did all kinds of mean things. He killed and ate all the boys he could lay his hands on. There weren’t any Boy Scouts in those days, or they’d have gone out and killed him.”
“I’d have clouted him in the jaw,” interrupted Frank Bowler energetically. “Just one good swift punch on the chin—”
“Yes, you would, Bad,” jeered Pickles; “you’re all the time talking about clouting somebody—but you never do.”