“Goodness, what a waste of good butter,” Amy retorted.
Any one who has, after several hours’ work in the fresh air, been treated to potatoes and onions and bacon and eggs, to say nothing of nut bread and coffee cake, can appreciate just how the Outdoor Girls enjoyed that supper.
Not until they had cooked a second panful of bacon and eggs and cleared up the last scraps of coffee cake, did the girls really feel satisfied.
Then, after lazing for a few minutes, they scouted about to find some water in which to wash their cooking utensils. They found it in the form of a delightful little spring that fed the merriest of merry little brooks further down the ravine.
It was an enchanted spot, there beside the brook—rich, heavy moss beneath their feet, the tinkle of rushing water in their ears, the chirping of sleepy birds overhead.
They lingered there, held by the beauty of the spot until reminded by the growing dusk that they must complete preparations for the night before complete darkness fell.
So, having filled a pail with water, they returned reluctantly to their camp and placed the pail over the fire. In a few moments the water was bubbling merrily and Mollie began briskly to wash the cutlery and utensils they had used.
“All the comforts of home,” she laughed. “Even hot dish water. Who could ask for more?”
“And while you girls are fixing the dishes,” said the Little Captain, “I guess I’d better get busy and make up the beds for the night. It won’t be so easy to do after dark.”
“Beds,” echoed the girls, staring up at her. It was honestly the first time they had realized the need for beds.