“I—I’ve got blankets.” Johnny’s tone was eager as he sprang to his feet. The smile he had seen on the girl’s face returned. He believed that she too was pleased.
“Be a great pal,” he told himself. “Strong as a man. And how she can shoot!”
To Gordon Duncan he said, “I’ll go for my blankets.”
“It’s by a bend in the river where three great pines shade the stream.”
“I know the place,” said the girl, springing up. “I—I’ll take you as far as the river. You’ll have no trouble after that. There’s something of a trail.”
Together they left the narrow circle of golden light cast by the campfire and plunged into black shadows.
As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, the girl appeared to experience no difficulty in following the mere suggestion of a trail that led down the hillside. Johnny noted the habit she had acquired of leaping from rock to rock and avoiding snowbanks. Hardly knowing why, he followed her example.
As they came to the bank of the rushing stream that even the winter’s cold could not conquer, they paused for a moment to watch the moonlight play across its surface.
The girl moved quite close to him. Their shoulders nearly touched. He seemed to feel the splendid strength, the abounding life that was in her. She somehow seemed a part of it all, of the forest, the night and the rushing river.
“Do you know,” she said quietly, “I’m glad you’ve come. I—I hope you’ll like us. Grandfather is a little queer, and he has bad spells with his heart. And—and we can’t go back, not—not just yet.
“There’s your trail.” Her voice changed suddenly. “You won’t get lost. But if you do, just cup your hands and shout like this: ‘Whoo Hoo.’”
Her voice rose clear and penetrating above the rush of the river. An owl rose from a nearby tree and went flapping away. There was a scratching of feet on the hard packed snow. From above came the answering boom of the old man’s voice.
Johnny turned to hurry on his way. Still his mind was not all on the uncertain trail. She had said they could not go back, not just yet. “Go back to what?” he asked himself. “And why not?” Surely it was strange. Yet he was very sure he was going to like them. He’d go where they went. Why not? He was adventuring, living in the wilderness with bow and arrow. Curious they should be doing the same thing. Yes, he’d go with them.