“‘Fate cannot harm me—I have dined to-day!’” quoted Natalie. “Which is not saying that I could not eat more,” she added, as she shook her long braids to free them from the moisture that had gathered as she collected the wood for the fire.
“But we mustn’t stay here,” went on Mrs. Bonnell after they had devoured—and I use the word advisedly—the last crumbs of the sandwiches. “We must keep on! We will simply have to find a place to stay to-night—if we can’t get back to camp. There must be farmhouses around here. This isn’t a desert, and that boat at Bear Pond showed that some one used it—even if it did leak.”
“Don’t speak of Bear Pond!” pleaded Marie.
“Now, dearie, don’t you worry!” exclaimed Alice, putting her arms around her chum. “It isn’t any more your fault than ours. We should be more like the boy scouts and ‘be prepared.’ That’s their motto, you know.”
“But I lost the directions!” exclaimed Marie.
“You couldn’t help it. Probably you pulled them out of your pocket with your handkerchief, dear. Don’t worry. We’ll get back to Dogwood Camp—someday.”
“I’m glad we brought stuffed olives instead of those with pits in,” remarked Natalie.
“Why?” her chums chorused. Natalie was always saying odd things, they thought.
“Because there’s so much more meat to them. The seeds are wasteful.”
They laughed, and it seemed to make them feel better. Then, with a warming of hands at the blaze, they prepared to set out again.