“Isn’t this jolly,” exclaimed Natalie.
“It’s really fun!” declared Marie.
“If the boys could only see us now!” came from Alice.
“And hear about the hairpin-blazed trees that we couldn’t locate after we scratched them,” added Mabel.
“Girls, if you ever tell on me I’ll never forgive you!” insisted Mrs. Bonnell. “After this I’m going to carry one of those boy-scout axes that fold up into a sort of leather card case, and which can be carried as a watch charm. Then I can chip off the bark so we can see it at midnight. Only my sense of proportion as one of the members of the society for the conservation of forests prompted me to use a hairpin.”
“Are there any more olives left?” asked Natalie.
“Yes—a few, but they’ll make you dreadfully thirsty, and we have only a little water,” answered Mabel, for they had brought a little water in a bottle from a spring they passed on their homeward wanderings.
They had been unable to find the path back to the cove, after coming to the conclusion that they were lost, and had come to a halt in a little glade, where they had made the fire.
The cheerful blaze did more than warm them, for the summer rain was chilling. It put new hearts into them, and made them more hopeful. Then too, the little food they had remaining aided in the work of regeneration.
What though it be dusk, and they far from camp—what though it rained? They had a fire, they were warm and had been fed after a fashion.