“I think I’ll go up by the willows and round by Beaver Creek.”
“I’ve half a mind to go that way too.”
“Come along then.”
And so we would go off together for the day.
One morning Lumley said to me, “I’m off to North River; will you come?”
“With pleasure, but we’ll have to camp out.”
“Well, it won’t be the first time.”
“D’you know that the thermometer stood at forty below zero this morning before breakfast?”
“I know it; what then? Mercurial fellows like you don’t freeze easily.”
I did not condescend to reply, but set about preparing for our expedition, resolving to carry my largest blanket with me, for camping out implied sleeping in the snow.