“No. Wait till we get down little way. Then make camp for night; then eat.”
As they could plainly see, the shores of the lake were deeply indented by many inlets and coves. Even from this height, it was impossible to survey the entire surface of the lake. Afar to the eastward there seemed to be a portion of it hidden amid some hills.
“Gee! it certainly is pretty!” said Billy, noting the great variety of trees, shrubs, and plants that clothed the hills with verdure. “Where do you intend to pitch camp, Joe?”
“Where you say, Alec?” was Joe’s question.
“On that little plateau we’re coming to,” said Alec confidently.
“Where you say, Hugh?”
“I marked a spot on my map where I thought would be a good place for a one-night camp,” said Hugh. “It’s right here where we can be in signal communication with Uncle Sam’s weather bureau, and thence with camp,—in case anything happens,” he added, with a glance at Joe.
For a few minutes they trudged on in silence. Then:
“Good!” grunted the halfbreed, as they reached the spot Hugh had pointed out. “We camp here.”
The greater part of the next two hours was consumed in gathering branches suitable for a lean-to shelter, building a fire-place of flat stones and cooking the evening meal. Finally, when the lean-to was constructed, and a goodly fire was blazing cheerfully in front of it, they chatted and laughed as they ate supper.