Carley walked about to ease her swollen and sore joints, and while doing so she took stock of the camp ground and what was going on. At second glance the place had a certain attraction difficult for her to define. She could see far, and the view north toward those strange gray-colored symmetrical hills was one that fascinated while it repelled her. Near at hand the ground sloped down to a large rock-bound lake, perhaps a mile in circumference. In the distance, along the shore she saw a white conical tent, and blue smoke, and moving gray objects she took for sheep.
The men unpacked and unsaddled the horses, and, hobbling their forefeet together, turned them loose. Twilight had fallen and each man appeared to be briskly set upon his own task. Glenn was cutting around the foot of a thickly branched cedar where, he told Carley, he would make a bed for her and Flo. All that Carley could see that could be used for such purpose was a canvas-covered roll. Presently Glenn untied a rope from round this, unrolled it, and dragged it under the cedar. Then he spread down the outer layer of canvas, disclosing a considerable thickness of blankets. From under the top of these he pulled out two flat little pillows. These he placed in position, and turned back some of the blankets.
“Carley, you crawl in here, pile the blankets up, and the tarp over them,” directed Glenn. “If it rains pull the tarp up over your head—and let it rain.”
This direction sounded in Glenn’s cheery voice a good deal more pleasurable than the possibilities suggested. Surely that cedar tree could not keep off rain or snow.
“Glenn, how about—about animals—and crawling things, you know?” queried Carley.
“Oh, there are a few tarantulas and centipedes, and sometimes a scorpion. But these don’t crawl around much at night. The only thing to worry about are the hydrophobia skunks.”
“What on earth are they?” asked Carley, quite aghast.
“Skunks are polecats, you know,” replied Glenn, cheerfully. “Sometimes one gets bitten by a coyote that has rabies, and then he’s a dangerous customer. He has no fear and he may run across you and bite you in the face. Queer how they generally bite your nose. Two men have been bitten since I’ve been here. One of them died, and the other had to go to the Pasteur Institute with a well-developed case of hydrophobia.”
“Good heavens!” cried Carley, horrified.
“You needn’t be afraid,” said Glenn. “I’ll tie one of the dogs near your bed.”