Thanks to my camping training I'm right at home on this job."
Van's boast was no idle one. Soon the fire was crackling merrily and
the chops and bacon were sizzling in the frying-pan. Bob unpacked
the sandwiches and the thermos bottle of hot chocolate.
It was a regal luncheon.
How good everything tasted!
"I believe I was cold," Van admitted, rubbing his hands over the
dying embers of the blaze. "But I'm warm as toast now. Is there any
more grub left to eat?"
"Not a crumb--why? Are you still hungry?" queried Bob who was
packing up the camping kit.
Van chuckled.
"Well, not exactly. I only thought we ought not to waste anything."
Bob glanced up and laughed; then his face grew sober.
"I say, there's a snowflake!" he cried. "And another! Jove, Van,
it's begun to snow!"
"We better be getting down, I suppose," drawled Van.
"Just that, old man; fast as we can, too. Come on."
"What's your hurry? It will be a lark."
"It will be no lark if it snows much--I'll tell you that," replied
Bob seriously. "Besides, the folks will worry. Come ahead."
They turned back down the trail.
The snowfall increased.
"You can hardly see our tracks already," Bob called over his
shoulder. "And this wind is fierce. I had no idea it would snow. It
is awfully wet and sticky snow, too; see how it clings to the
trees."
They sped on.
The descent was far easier than the climb, and they could go
quickly.
"I don't remember that big rock," exclaimed Van suddenly, pointing
to a huge boulder that fronted them.
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