Page:Boy scouts in the White Mountains; the story of a long hike (IA boyscoutsinwhite00eato).pdf/264

 going to bake some in a tin box somebody has left here in a corner of the hut."

"How'll you make bread without yeast?" asked Rob.

Art produced a little sack of baking powder from his pack. "With this, and powdered milk, and powdered egg," he answered. "You make me up a good fire of coals, and I'll show you."

He mixed the dough while the rest were clearing up the supper things, greased his tin box (after it had been thoroughly washed with boiling water) with bacon fat, and put the dough in to rise. "I'll leave it half an hour to raise," he said, "and go with you fellows up to see the snow arch. Then I've got to come back and bake it."

It was moonlight when they set out for the head of the ravine, but the light was not strong enough to make the path easy, nor to take away the sense of gigantic black shadows towering up where the walls ought to be. Peanut tried shouting, to get an echo, but his voice sounded so small and foolish in this great, yawning hole of shadows in the mountainside, that he grinned rather sheepishly, and shut up.

The "baby glacier," as Rob called the snow-drift, was like a white shadow at the foot of the head wall. They could hear the brook tinkling beneath it, but not so loud as by day. When the sun goes down, the melting stops to a very considerable extent.