“Hurrah!” shouted Tom. “There’s the top!”
But the top was a good walk from there, and when at last they emerged upon the little rocky plateau forming the summit, they were both tired and hungry.
“Rest for thirty minutes,” proclaimed Mr. Percival. “Then we’ll take the back track.”
“The back track! Oh-h-h!”
“How about dinner, uncle?”
“I’m just starving, sir!”
“What time is it? Who’s got a watch?”
Tom turned fiery red at this last question, and a sober look crossed Pet’s face; but a moment later she was merry again.
“Please, uncle Will,” she pleaded, “mayn’t we have lunch before we go down?”
“Please, Miss Pet, turn one of those brooks upside-down, and bring up a few nice large birch trees—and this will be quite a comfortable spot for dinner! No, dear, we’ll look all we want to at this beautiful view, and then we’ll walk down a bit—only a few steps, and not just the way we came—to a spot Ruel knows of, where shade, fuel and fresh water are all at hand.”