"No, I just happened to wake up, and not finding you in the shack, crept out to take a peep around, and see if there was any sign of your coming. I had begun to fear our mutual friends, Stackpole and Dubois, might have waylaid you, old fellow; but now I see I was wrong. You've been taking a bit of exercise, no doubt—didn't get enough on our way here, eh? It did me up, all right, and I was glad to drop down and rest. Now you're in camp I'll resume my nap," answered Cuthbert, leaving it to the other as to whether he wanted to explain.
Owen seemed a trifle confused, but he was a straightforward fellow and without a trace of guile in his make-up.
"To confess the truth, Cuthbert, I hung around for a long time to get a glimpse of that little cousin you spoke of, and fortune was kind enough to let me see her several times. Just as you say, she looks like a fairy and somehow made me think of a picture I have of my mother when she was young. I had quite a little talk with her, too, which made it very pleasant. And while I'm about it I might as well own up that the sight of her, together with the thoughts swarming into my mind, caused me to finally wander off into the woods, where alone I could fight the whole thing out and come to such a conclusion as the mother I loved would have had me do. It's been a hard tussle, I tell you, but I think I've won out," he said, with a quiver in his voice, and it was easy to see that the lad had been recently racked by emotions that for some time he had succeeded in keeping under restraint.
Cuthbert understood better than words could have told him what the nature of that battle under the stars must have been, and to show his sympathy for this new but dear chum he impulsively thrust out his hand and gripped that of Owen.
"I'm awful glad to know it—say no more, old fellow, for I can give a pretty good guess how it turned out. Come, tumble into your blankets and get some of your beauty sleep. There's another day coming, when I hope all of these twists and misunderstandings may be smoothed out and everything look bully. Now, crawl in and feel for your nest—it's on the side to the right, first blanket."
"Wait a bit," said Owen, "there's something else you ought to know. Perhaps you heard all that racket awhile ago. Well, I was partly the cause of that," and then he went on to tell the wondering Cuthbert what a strange thing had occurred while he was still lingering near the room that held Jessie Ferguson.
The Virginia lad was also pleased, because he knew the reconciliation could not be much longer delayed, and presently he lay down once more to sleep.
Owen was accustomed to turning in all standing, as a sailor would say—that is, with simply pulling off his boots or moccasins, whichever he chanced to be wearing, for a life in the woods does not allow of the customary preparations for bed; even the other two boys only removed their outer garments, though when the weather had been milder Cuthbert had indulged in the delight of pajamas; but the first frost had chilled his ardor in that line, and he had gradually come to copying Eli, who had the habits of the loggers of the great Michigan woods and waived all ceremony.
When ten minutes had passed Cuthbert fancied from the regular breathing that came from the spot where the Canadian lad lay that he was far along the road to the Land of Nod, and giving a satisfied grunt, he himself turned over, to let himself slip away on the tide.
Those who spend much time in the woods, in camps are restless during the night, and rarely sleep through without once or twice arousing, lifting their head to listen through habit or caution, or even crawling out to renew the fire.