Then she began softly to whistle “Taps.”
CHAPTER XIII
NIGHT IN THE TENT
It was decided not to let the campfire go out entirely. In the first place, they had brought no mosquito netting and a fire was necessary to keep off insects.
And then, though this they did not acknowledge even to themselves, they felt a wee bit lonesome, away out here far from everybody, and the fire would give them just the sense of security that they needed.
And so they banked it, with the agreement that whoever woke in the night was to put more wood on it and stir it up generally.
They had great sport crawling into their sleeping bags.
“Oh, dear, all the rocks in the place are under my spine!” cried Grace, as she strove in vain to shift to a comfortable position. “I’ll be all holes in the morning, if I last that long, I know I shall.”
“Quick! Who has Grace’s hair mattress?” cried Mollie, urgently. “Hurry up and hand it over, Betty Nelson. I know you’re lying on it.”
“I’d hate to tell you what I’m lying on,” chuckled Betty, lifting up a corner of the blanket and uprooting a broken-off twig. “I’ll exchange my place for Grace’s in a moment.”