A slice of ham was soon sizzling away; then the coffee-pot began to simmer over a pile of glowing embers. Sardines, biscuits and gingerbread completed the supper, which all the boys thoroughly enjoyed.
By the time they had cleaned up, the clouds above were edged with an orange glow. Between the trees close at hand, they caught glimpses in the western sky of brilliant yellows, pinks, and purples, and pale, delicate greens, all forming a riot of color which rivaled that of the rainbow.
“Must be a jolly fine sunset,” said George; “I’m going to take a walk and get a good look at it. Coming, fellows?”
All but Norman assented.
“I’ll stick by the ‘Gray Gull,’ George,” he said; “and work on that telescope stand a bit. It will be a fine night for a peep at the moon, too, which should be at its best.”
“All right,” said George. “If those school chaps get back, tell ’em to wait. Funny the duffers are staying away so long.”
The five plunged directly into the woods. A touch of the warm sunset glow rested upon the foliage and tree trunks, relieving the somber tones of the denser portions. Over vines and masses of ferns, with George in the lead, they went, listening to the chatter and song of the birds so soon to be hushed by the approaching night.
“Haven’t enjoyed myself like this for a year,” declared George, enthusiastically. “It’s grand to feel as free as one of these birds. Guess I can square it with Uncle Dan.”
“And ‘Pouf,’ too?” asked Joe, with a grin.
“Pierre may learn a few things,” said George, with a touch of anger in his voice. “Say—isn’t that a road ahead?”