s’pose Bub and me always picked a open place fer, if it wasn’t the best place?”
“I supposed you just happened to,” replied Stanley, meekly.
“See that limb, there?” and he pointed to a large bough that had been wrenched off by lightning or a tempest. Stanley nodded. “Wal, if yer lean-to had been standing beneath it we’d all be dead by this time,” continued Abner. “Pitch yer shelter out there in the open where nothing can fall on us if it comes up a blow.”
Properly humbled Stanley patiently undid his work and completed the slanting roof as directed. Bub grinned sympathetically and asked him if he were building a whole village.
Trout supplemented their domestic rations, and each said he had never enjoyed a meal more. Then Abner lighted his pipe for a brief smoke before turning in. An olive backed thrush, far up the slope, was singing an evening song. The echo faintly responded from some nearby mountain, while Stanley’s favorite, the hermit thrush, filled the woods about them with vocal purity.
On the next day the falls were encountered. Two tiresome trips were necessary to carry the canoe and supplies around this obstacle,
