I was resting on one elbow gazing up between the pine branches at the blue of the sky, with the clean-scented needles crackling under me, and made no answer. Nevertheless, it struck me that I might find too much culture irksome, especially if it implied that I must carry half my household sundries upon my back whenever I started on an expedition. Hitherto I had not considered this side of the question when indulging in certain roseate visions, but as Leyland spoke there opened up unpleasant possibilities of having to stand by, a mere director, clear of the heat and dust of effort, and pay others to do the work I found pleasure in. Then as I reflected that there was small need to trouble about such eventualities, a face, that was not Beatrice Haldane's, rose up before my fancy. It was forceful as well as pretty, quick to express sympathy and enthusiasm; and I decided that the man who won Lucille Haldane would have a helpmate who would encourage instead of restrain his energies, and, if need be, take her place beside him in the struggle. Then I dismissed the subject as having nothing to do with me.
Leyland seemed loath to resume his rambles, and on the following morning, after he had, I fancy, lain awake abusing the mosquitoes all night, his patience broke down. "I'm getting too old to enjoy this description of picnic as I used to," he said. "The fact is, if I mule this confounded bric-à-brac around much longer I shall drop in my tracks."
"Shall we turn back?" I asked him.
The tired man shook his head. "We'll strike for water, and if we can't find a canoe anywhere you can build a raft. I wouldn't crawl through any more of those muskegs for a thousand dollars."
I had no objections, and Leyland's comments became venomous during the march, for the lake was distant, and the pine woods thick. He fell into thickets, and shed his burden broadcast across the face of each steeper descent, so that it cost us many minutes to collect it again, and once we spent an hour in the mire of a muskeg on hands and knees in search of a vine-pattern mustard spoon. Leyland, who became profane during the proceedings, said his wife might consider that its loss would destroy the harmony of a whole dinner service. At last, however—my comrade, panting heavily, and progressing with a crab-like gait, because he had wrenched one knee and blistered a heel—the broad lake showed up beneath the blazing maple leaves ahead. They were donning their full glories of gold and crimson before the coming of the frost.
"Thank heaven!" said Leyland with fervent sincerity. "I'll sit here forever unless you can find something that will float me home."
He limped on until we were clear of the trees, and then flung himself down among the boulders with a gasp of relief, for fortune had treated him kindly. There was a fresh breeze blowing, and the broad stretch of water was streaked by lines of frothy white; but we had come out upon a sheltered bay, and a big catboat lay moored beneath a ledge. A group of figures rose from about a crackling fire, there was a shout of recognition, and the young man I had been introduced to as Ted Caryl came forward to greet us.
"Just in time! The kettle's boiling; but have you been practicing for a strong-man circus, Leyland?" he said. My companion, still retaining his recumbent position, answered dryly: "I have been taking exercise and diverting myself."
"So one might have fancied from your exhilarated appearance," commented Caryl. "We can give you a passage home by water if you have had enough of it."
"I'll go no other way if I have to swim," said Leyland grimly.