Page:Boy scouts in the White Mountains; the story of a long hike (IA boyscoutsinwhite00eato).pdf/152

 "Only there's no 'deep-mouthed neighboring ocean,'" Rob laughed.

"There's a brook," said Lou.

The hemlocks were indeed giants. They were three or four feet thick, and rose sixty or eighty feet without a limb, their tops going on up fifty feet more.

In among these superb trees, the boys made camp, selecting a spot some way from the path, and hidden by underbrush. They all took a bath in the cold brook, put on their one change of clean clothes, washing out their socks and underclothes and hanging them on twigs around the camp to dry. Then they carefully combed their hair, dusted their boots, and tied each others' neckties neatly. (Peanut's tie was badly crumpled, for it had been in his pocket all day.)

It was dark in the woods before they were ready, and it suddenly occurred to them that they'd have trouble finding the camp again, later in the evening.

"We might leave the lantern burning—if it would last," said Lou.

"No, some one would see it, going by on the path," Art replied. "We don't want to risk having our stuff pinched."

"I know—tie a white handkerchief to a bush by the path where we turn off to camp, and then count the number of steps back to the road," said Frank.