"Three hours, I should say," answered Stane with a smile.
"And you? How is your leg?"
"Fairly comfortable," he answered.
"I am glad of that, I was terribly afraid that it might have suffered some new injury—how hungry I am!"
"Naturally!" was the reply. "It is now past noon and we have not yet had breakfast."
"There is some cold bacon somewhere, left over from yesterday, and that small box of biscuits. I will find them. We must eat. Fortunately we're not likely to be short of water." She laughed a little as she spoke, then rising, began to look for the food, which, when she had found it, she divided between them. "There is not much bacon, but there are biscuits galore for present needs," she said as she put the food before him. "Fall to, sir!"
She herself ate the simple meal with a relish that surprised herself, and then looked round once more. They had drifted nearer the shore, and looking overside she could see the bottom of the lake. At that she clapped her hands.
"The water is shallowing," she cried, "I believe I can resume my punting."
She took up her pole and finding that she could touch bottom, began to pole the raft inshore, and in twenty minutes she was looking for a place to land. She found it in a quiet little bay beyond a tree-crowned bluff, and in a little time she had beached the clumsy craft, and jumped ashore. She anchored the raft to a tree, and then looked around. Just where she had landed, there was a level patch of sward, backed by massive firs and, after considering its possibilities for a moment she spoke:
"We will make our new camp here! It will do as well as anywhere else, and in case the fire travels round we can easily take to the lake again."