At five minutes before six, after stamping out their little campfire, the Overland party started for the log cabin. As they crossed the road Hippy sniffed the air.
"I smell food!" he cried.
"Onions! Save me!" moaned Emma.
"No. It is something far and away ahead of mere onions," answered Hippy. "I don't know what it is, but were this not so formal an occasion, I should break into a run for it."
The door of the cabin stood open, so the party filed in unbidden. The table was long enough for a lumberjack boarding house, constructed of boards nailed together with cleats and placed on two boxes. Oilcloth covered the boards and hung clear to the floor on either side. The ends were open. There was a freshness and wholesomeness about the place that attracted the girls at once.
"Set down!" commanded Joe, entering with a heaping platter of meat.
"That is what I smelled!" exclaimed Hippy. "May I ask what that meat is, Mrs. Shafto?"
"Venison."
"Eh? Don't wake me up," murmured Hippy.
"Is the deer season on?" questioned Tom.