We moved down after the noonday meal and made camp in a secluded spot not a great way from the forks of the river.
That evening, when our fire burned low, Joshua felt in the mood to sing. Having concluded one hymn he struck into another familiar to Mr. Dide. The effusion had a refrain of some sort, and we were all startled by hearing that taken up and repeated by female voices. Not being superstitious, the Major moved out of the light of our own fire and discovered the reflection of another some little distance away. We had, in the vicinity, mortals like ourselves, but fairer, no doubt, and Joshua, with Mr. Dide's help, sent out frequent invitations to the unknown singers, bringing a response until the hour grew late. The episode was not an unpleasant one, and I thought it might pave the way to an acquaintance with our neighbors. In the morning I started on a prospecting tour, and the first individual I met proved, much to my surprise, to be the Deacon, whom I discovered gathering wood with which to cook breakfast.
Where did he come from?
"Why, Trapper's Lake—we came down the river yesterday, with the intention of spending a week on the South Fork, hoping to find you and the Major. I had no notion you two were the singers, or I should have called last night."
"Then you have the ladies with you?"
"Oh, yes, my cousin and her mother,—you saw my cousin at Cascade,—they were the singers you heard answering you."
"The Major and I were not the singers, Deacon."
"No? well, who is camped over there by you?"
"Our cook and Mr. Dide were the singers you heard."