Jack was a much sounder sleeper than his brother and, knowing that the boy would need all his strength for the strenuous day ahead, he let him sleep until breakfast was ready.
“Why didn’t you let me sleep all day and be done with it,” Jack growled when Bob finally woke him.
“It’s all right, dear boy,” Bob smiled. “There was no need of both of us getting up so early and I was awake and so I got up.”
“Of course you didn’t have it planned or anything like that. Oh no, of course not. You always want to do all of your own work and a good part of mine too.”
Bob laughed.
“Never mind the bouquets,” he said. “Come and get some of these flapjacks under your belt and we’ll be hitting the long trail.”
Dawn was just breaking when they started. It was cold and not a sound, save the soft creak of the frozen snow beneath their moccasins, broke the silence. One by one, as it seemed, the stars faded from out the cloudless sky as the darkness gave way to light. The sharp air, heavily laden with the odor of spruce and of balsam, made their lungs tingle with life as they drew in great gulps.
“My, but it’s great just to be alive a morning like this,” Bob declared.
“And especially up here in the Maine woods,” Jack added.
“You said it,” Bob smiled. “It beats me how a man can be content to spend his life in a city and never know what the great out of doors is like.”