“Piney smell? That’s snuff,” laughed Mrs. Murray, sniffing suspiciously around Isabel’s bed. “I did have a box of it in case we met a bear. Ever since a brown bear waddled up to my back door one morning and stole some fresh pies, I’ve had snuff by me in case of emergency. You can always make a bear run with a good dash of snuff in his face. And somehow, the box must have got mixed up in the blankets, and come uncovered. You poor child. I’ll give you a fresh pair.”
Everybody laughed except Isabel; all she could do was sneeze. But finally they got settled down for the night. Only once Polly started to giggle.
“Now what?” demanded Isabel.
“It rhymes with Isabel.”
“What does?”
“Piney smell.”
“If I didn’t need my pillow, I’d throw it at you, Polly,” Isabel said, drowsily. “Go to sleep.”
So at last peace settled down over the little camp, and only the flickering firelight moved, except when Mr. Murray would rouse to put on fresh wood, and take a look around to see that all was well.
CHAPTER XXV
HEART’S CONTENT