"How beautiful," murmured Elfreda Briggs.
"It is indeed," breathed Grace. "The scene reminds me of the one that we looked down upon when we were riding the Old Apache Trail, except that this is infinitely more beautiful. Hippy, does not this remind you of France, when you were flying above the clouds?"
"In a way, yes. Many is the time that I have gone to sleep on a cloud for a few seconds. Tom, what is our altitude here?" he asked, turning to his companion.
"According to my aneroid, about eight thousand feet."
"We are surely getting up in the world," chuckled Emma.
"Don't congratulate yourself too soon, Miss Dean. We may be going the other way before morning," reminded Stacy Brown. "What about starting a conflagration, Captain Gray?"
"Woo, stir up the campfire and let's have some light and warmth," directed Tom.
"Oh, it is too bad to destroy this wonderful view. If you build a fire we shan't be able to see the full cloud effect," protested Grace.
"You will," answered Hippy. "We soon shall be enveloped in clouds, and we are going to feel the cold, too."
There was a biting chill in the air already and, to the amazement of the campers, mosquitoes were numerous and very active.
Tom, after a survey of their surroundings, said he would make up the beds, and called to Woo to bring the pick-axe.
"Make up the beds with a pick?" exclaimed Emma.
"Yes. By the way, where do we sleep tonight?" asked Miss Briggs in a slightly worried tone.
"I will show you," replied Tom, beginning to dig a trench in the thin layer of soil that covered the ridge.
"If you can transmigrate a real bed, I wish you would make it two so that I may have one," called Stacy.
Tom made no reply, but, after digging the trench, he had the guide and Hippy place stones on either side of it as an added protection against rolling out of bed.
"Stacy, get in here and see if this hole fits your ample proportions," directed Tom.
"I don't like to be buried so soon after supper," he complained. "Is this some new game that you are trying to play on me?"
"Yes. It is a game to keep you from falling out of bed and making a mess of yourself," replied Tom tersely.
"I--I think I should prefer to sleep downstairs," stammered Stacy.
"If that is the way you feel, you have only to roll over and you will be downstairs for keeps," promised Lieutenant Wingate.
