“Adieu, little house,” said Elinor. And then, turning to Pats, “Why, I am really sorry to leave it.”
165“So am I, for it has given me the happiest days of my life–or of anybody’s life.”
In and out among the trees they tramped, three hours or more, with intervals for rest, generally through the woods, but always keeping near the coast unless for a shorter cut across the base of some little peninsula. Elinor stood it well and enjoyed with Pats the excitement of discovery. After a long nooning they pushed on until nearly sunset. When they halted for the night both explorers were still in good condition; but the next morning, in starting off, each confessed to a stiffness in the lower muscles. This disappeared, however, after an hour’s walking.
Early in the afternoon of this second day’s march they stood upon the top of the hill which, from a distance, had promised a commanding view. But they found, as so often happens to every kind of climber, that another hill, still higher and farther on, was the one to be attained. So they pushed ahead. Just before reaching the summit of this final hill Pats halted.
“Now comes a critical moment. What do you think we shall see?”
Elinor shook her head sadly. “I am prepared for the worst; for the wilderness, without a sign of human life.”
166Pats’s ever-cheerful face took on a smile. “I suspect you are right, but I am not admitting it officially. I prophesy that we shall look down upon a large and very fashionable summer hotel.”
“Awful thought!” And she smiled as she surveyed her own attire and that of Pats. “What a sensation we should create! You with that faded old flannel shirt, your two days’ beard, and those extraordinary South African trousers; and I, sunburnt as a gypsy, with my hair half down–”
“No hair like it in the world–”
“And this weather-beaten dress. What would they take us for?”