"Lovely!" answered Alice.
"It isn't half so lonesome now," added Ruth. She tried to be cheerful—as cheerful as Alice seemed, though really both girls, in their hearts, were worrying over the effect their absence would have on their father.
"Now we've done this much, let's do a little more," suggested Paul. "Let's brew some coffee. I fancy the girls must be chilly. I know I am."
"Good idea! Coffee for five!" cried Russ, as though giving orders to a restaurant waiter.
"I wouldn't sleep, anyhow, after hearing that beast scream," said Ruth. "Do make coffee."
The alcohol stove was soon lighted and the aromatic odor of the hot beverage floated on the air. The little party made merry—as merry as possible under the circumstances.
The moon sank below the trees again. It grew very dark, and somehow they dozed off again—fitfully. Then a pale light suffused the east, filtering faintly through the trees. It grew brighter.
"Morning," announced Russ, with a luxurious stretch. "It's morning."
"The end of the long night," whispered Ruth. "How glad—how very glad I am."
"Let's all go ashore and have breakfast—that is, whatever we have left for breakfast," proposed Alice. "It will do us all good to run about a bit."