"Miss Miller, I wonder why it is that, without apparent fuel or fanning, fire will renew itself during the wee hours of the night!" exclaimed Zan.
"I never heard, but it is an interesting suggestion, Zan. We'll have Elena make a note of that in her book so that we will remember to ask that question at Headquarters when we visit there."
"Do you ever expect to see them?" asked Hilda, meaning the officers of the Woodcraft Indians.
"Why, certainly! Don't you?" returned Miss Miller.
"I didn't know but that we'd be a nuisance. So many members call, I suppose," replied Hilda, with consideration.
"Hilda, that's very good of you. If every member was as thoughtful of the time of the Founders, how much better it would be."
No one stirred that night, for every one was healthily tired and repose was natural. Even Miss Miller set a small alarm clock to awake her at five, for she thought she might over-sleep during the cool hours of early morning.
At five, the ringing of the alarm awakened every one; while the girls yawned and wished it was midnight, the Guide jumped out of bed and looked at the wonderful appearance of Nature. Dew-drops sparkled in the rising sun, and the Falls sent forth a new note in its musical repertoire. Even the grey surface of rock seemed to be of warmer and softer material than it had been in the twilight.
"Girls! Up—up—up! The day is glorious!" called the Guide.