They were out in a jiffy, and found themselves in a fairyland. On the one hand, green and blue mountains rose in an almost unscalable rampart; on the other, across two miles of a silvery mirror ordinarily a lake, a wooded landscape fell away in gorgeous tints and ineffable distances. The song of birds trilled in the air, and the fresh, keen scent of the rain-washed pines was pungent in their nostrils. After one delighted glance at this circumambient Paradise, they raced to the water, and, as they ran, Nancy noticed the phenomenally clean-cut reflection of the opposite shore.
“Derry,” she cried, “just look at that picture! Can you wonder if I hardly know whether I am standing on my head or my heels?”
Perhaps, of all the tender memories which Power has hoarded through the years, he is most tenacious of his recollection of Nancy as she was that morning. She seemed some wood-nymph clothed in the garments of civilization, that modern cult which the Greeks, those true poets and clear thinkers, would have scoffed at. Yet, so graceful were her movements, so bewitching her mobile face, so artistic the careless knot into which she had twisted her wealth of nut-brown hair, that not even the Boston tailor of a bygone generation who had equipped her at sight with a fawn-colored coat and skirt could hide the symmetry of her form or impair her winsome beauty.
The lake was oval in shape, and an imaginary line drawn from shore to shore at its center would measure more than a mile. The hut stood half a mile north of the eastern end of this line, and a summer hotel, patronized mostly by zealots of rod and hook, lay half a mile south of it on the opposite side. Thus, except on the rare occasions when a fishing canoe came that way—and the water was so alive with fish that the requisite paddling meant so much wasted time and effort—they were absolutely shut off from the world. Even while they were scampering to the spot where they had landed the night before, Power was noting a tree-shrouded creek where a tiny stream from the hills babbled the last of its brief life into the placid bosom of the lake. There, he decided, it would be easy to contrive an admirable bathing-place for Nancy, as she was only a timid swimmer, having acquired the art quite recently. He himself was equally at home in sea, river, and lake. On one occasion, during his engineering novitiate, he had swum across the Arkansas River when it was almost at flood level, and it needs those who have seen and heard that turbulent stream roaring through its rocky canyons between Pueblo and Las Animas to appreciate the feat at its true worth.
Then he would teach her how to fish and shoot; for they must be self-supporting to a large extent, though the hotel provided a well-equipped base for this foray into the wilds of the Adirondacks. Yes, they would have a glorious time, living like Indians, yet tempering their savagery by the sweet communion of kindred souls, with never a newspaper nearer than the hotel, their address a tangle of wooded mountains, and their solitary book a copy of Milton’s poems, which, Nancy had said once in Newport, she had never appreciated properly, and which Power, an enthusiast, had recommended to her close study as the well of English, pure and undefiled.
Nor was their earliest day-dream any fantasy, or other than a superficial glimpse of delights which expanded hourly before their enraptured vision. A whole fortnight slipped away so rapidly in this Elysium that Nancy, keeping a housewifely eye on stores, discovered the flight of time only by the urgent need of replenishing a cupboard bare of coffee, and sugar, and bacon, and other essentials, notably matches; for the summer camp has yet to be built in which the supply of matches has endured to the end.
Usually, when a visit to the hotel became necessary, Peter Granite took the canoe, while Derry and Nancy, escorted by Guess, rambled off for the day into the hills behind the hut. They had no fear of getting lost, because Power was endowed with a sixth sense in all matters pertaining to topography, while the dog was credited by his master with an infallible knowledge of the homeward way at dinnertime. But on this day, by unhappy chance, Nancy announced that she wanted the cabin clear of men while she indulged in a feminine foible, common to all her sex, known as spring cleaning. Season or clime is immaterial; when that microbe seizes a woman she has to undergo the disease from the earliest symptoms to complete convalescence. The premonitory signs are unmistakable. She begins by a ruthless survey of corners, floors, spidery rafters, and grimy windows. Her eyes sparkle, she turns up the sleeves of her blouse, dons an apron, and arranges for unlimited quantities of hot water and soap. Nancy possessed no apron; but a square of sacking and some cord soon settled that difficulty.
Therefore, deeming themselves wise, Derry and Peter fled, leaving the dog and a double-barreled shotgun as safeguards. Not that any sort of protection was needed in that favored region. The predatory tramp cannot exist there; the inhabitants are the most courteous and law-abiding people in America; the only strangers are city holiday-makers of the quiet and cultured type.
The men promised to remain away two hours. Considering the time altogether too short for the thorough cleansing of the hut, Nancy set to work with a will, and when first she thought of glancing at her watch she found that one hour had sped already. Guess was sitting in the sun, blinking lazily at a beetle which had been disturbed, and was now scuttling away for dear life. Possibly the dog was wondering why uneasy mortals should not rest when not hunting; but, despite his canine philosophy, he was keeping watch and ward with due vigilance, for he rose suddenly, and growled.
Nancy knew that he hardly ever barked; but his growl was an unfailing indication of the near presence of some intruder; whether man or animal remained to be seen. An occasional wolf, and a species of small black bear—the latter very scarce—were the only dangerous creatures which could possibly come near the cabin, and then only by accident; so Nancy was merely obeying Peter’s behests in picking up the gun, and making sure that both barrels were loaded, before going to investigate the cause of the dog’s uneasiness. Out of the tail of her eye she noted that he had stalked away deliberately toward the back of the cabin. Whatever it was that had disturbed his siesta, he was still bidding it defiance; so she hurried somewhat, and, the morning sun being in her eyes, saw, without instant recognition, a man of small stature standing motionless some yards away among the undergrowth.