So it befell: the spirit of that old chief whose body had long been given to the wooded hills came into Lost River camp.
Gordon hurried away after breakfast. While the children stood looking down the trail and waving their hands and weeping, Silas Strong ran past them two or three times with the noisy little wagon. Its consoling clatter silenced them. There had been a deep purpose in the heart of the Emperor while he spent half the night in his workshop. Gordon had laughingly explained the cause of their disappointment on arriving at Lost River camp. Strong was trying to recover their esteem.
"C-come on!" he shouted.
Soon Socky and Sue sat in the little wagon on their way to Catamount Pond with their Uncle Silas and the young fisherman.
XI.
THE sky was clear, and the rays of the sun fell hot upon the dry woods that morning when Master and the children and their Uncle Silas reached the landing at Catamount. Its eastern shore lay deep under cool shadows. The water plane was like taut canvas on which a glowing picture of wooded shore and sky and mountain had been painted. Golden robins darted across a cove and sang in the tree-tops.
Master righted his canoe and put the children aboard and took his place in the stern-seat.
"I'll slip over to R-Robin," said the Emperor as he shoved the canoe into deep water. With him to "slip" meant to go, and in his speech he always "slipped" from one point to another.