Page:A-Hunting of Deer-1906.djvu/62

52 with a chorus always coming in at the wrong times. Those who are not asleep want to know why the smoker does n&rsquo;t go to bed. He is requested to get some water, to throw on another log, to see what time it is, to note whether it looks like rain. A buzz of conversation arises. She is sure she heard something behind the shanty. He says it is all nonsense. &ldquo;Perhaps, however, it might be a mouse.&rdquo;

&ldquo;Mercy! Are there mice?&rdquo;

&ldquo;Plenty.&rdquo;

&ldquo;Then that &rsquo;s what I heard nibbling by my head. I sha&rsquo;n&rsquo;t sleep a wink! Do they bite?&rdquo; &ldquo;No, they nibble; scarcely ever take a full bite out.&rdquo;

&ldquo;It's horrid!&rdquo;

Towards morning it grows chilly; the guides have let the fire go out; the blankets will slip down. Anxiety begins to be expressed about the dawn.

&ldquo;What time does the sun rise?&rdquo;

&ldquo;Awful early. Did you sleep?&rdquo;

&ldquo;Not a wink. And you?&rdquo;

&ldquo;In spots. I &rsquo;m going to dig up this root as soon as it is light enough.&rdquo;

&ldquo;See that mist on the lake, and the light just coming on the Gothics! I &rsquo;d no idea it was so cold: all the first part of the night I was roasted.&rdquo;

&ldquo;What were they talking about all night?&rdquo;

When the party crawls out to the early breakfast, after it has washed its faces in the lake, it is disorganized, but cheerful. Nobody admits much sleep; but everybody is refreshed, and declares it delightful. It is the fresh air all night that invigorates; or maybe it is the tea or the slapjacks. The guides have erected a table of spruce bark, with benches at the sides; so