Their table was a rocky shelf elevated about ten inches above the ground
and standing on a sort of standard, so that the girls were able, by
sitting down beside it, to tuck their feet under the rock, which made an
excellent board for the purpose. The night had not yet fallen, but
shadows hung over the valleys and the distant mountains, the purple tinge
creeping slowly up the side of the mountain which they were climbing,
enveloping the campers before they had finished eating their supper.
The evening, on the side of the mountain in their comfortable camp, was a
delightful one. They sat on their blankets beside a blazing campfire
amid the great silence, broken only by the voices of the campers and the
occasional cry of a night bird. Janus, after having made a thorough
patrol of the ground surrounding the camp, returned to the campfire and
entertained the girls by telling of the early Indian days, stories that
had been handed down by generations, and that had grown and grown until
they had assumed startling proportions.
All at once Harriet, in the midst of one of these remarkable tales,
tilted her head back, her eyes apparently studying the stars that hung
over the mountain range to the south of them.
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