In addition, there had
fallen many trees over which one had to climb. We kept at it for
perhaps an hour. The brook continued of the same size, and the country
of the same character. Dick for the first time suggested that it might
be well to camp.
"We've got good water here," he argued, quite justly, "and we can push
on to-morrow just as well as to-night."
We balanced our packs against a prostrate tree-trunk. Billy contributed
his indirect share to the argument.
"I lak' to have the job mak' heem this countree all over," he sighed.
"I mak' heem more level."
"All right," I agreed; "you fellows sit here and rest a minute, and
I'll take a whirl a little ways ahead."
I slipped my tump-line and started on light. After carrying a heavy
pack so long, I seemed to tread on air. The thicket, before so
formidable, amounted to nothing at all. Perhaps the consciousness that
the day's work was in reality over lent a little factitious energy to
my tired legs. At any rate, the projected two hundred feet of my
investigations stretched to a good quarter-mile. At the end of that
space I debouched on a widening of the ravine. The hardwood ran off
into cedars. I pushed through the stiff rods and yielding fans of the
latter, and all at once found myself leaning out over the waters of the
lake.
It was almost an exact oval, and lay in a cup of hills. Three wooded
islands, swimming like ducks in the placid evening waters, added a
touch of diversity.
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