The August sun was shining down from a cloudless sky. He had risen betimes that morning; but he was not the first one up in Blue Creek, for the dim light of the dawn had found Ned and Grant Everett dressed and flying about the house, while, farther up the street, Marjorie was peering out through the window blinds, to assure herself that it was to be a pleasant day. By seven o’clock the Burnams, too, were stirring; and soon afterwards Allie and the boys appeared in the dining-room at the Everetts’, to exchange noisy congratulations over the fine weather.

The day had at length come when they were to start upon their long-delayed camping trip. For the past week, the young people had been in a state of ferment, while their elders were in much the same condition, even to Mrs. Pennypoker, whose excitement was largely mixed with dread at the thought of the Bohemian life before her. The engineering camp, which they were to join, was now pitched beside the Beaverhead River; and Mr. Burnam, who had been out with his party much of the time since Charlie’s accident, had come back to Blue Creek two days before, announcing that all was in readiness for their reception; so the hour for their departure was fixed upon. The distance to the camp was so great that they were to be two days upon their journey, spending the night at a ranch on their way, and reaching camp late on the following afternoon.

By nine o’clock, the party had assembled at the Burnams’, ready for the start. They made an imposing cavalcade as they moved away down the street, for all but the older women were mounted on horseback. At the head of the procession rode Mr. Everett, Mr. Burnam, and Mr. Fisher, followed closely by the four boys, Allie and Marjorie, while Louise Everett, in her close-fitting dark green habit, cantered along in the rear, with Dr. Brownlee by her side. Then came the three wagons, the first driven by Wang Kum, with Janey perched up on the high seat beside him, eyeing her companion askance; while Mrs. Pennypoker, directly behind them, watched them both with an unswerving vigilance, ready to check any sign of levity on the part of man or maid. Mrs. Pennypoker was attired with all her wonted nicety, and her prim black straw bonnet and decorous gloves formed a striking contrast to the plain rough-and-ready gowns and broad hats of the other matrons, who were more accustomed to the needs of the life before them. Last of all came the two baggage wagons, one carrying the tents and stove, the other laden with the generous stock of provisions which Mr. Burnam had laid in for his guests; while in and out among them all raced Ben in a series of mad, elephantine gambols, expressive of his joy at being started for the field again.

Through the town they proceeded quietly enough; then, when they came out into the open ground of the lower canon, the boys uttered a wild whoop, and dug their heels into the flanks of their ponies, as they went scurrying away, far in advance of the rest of the party.

“Just look at Charlie!” said Marjorie, as the boys turned to ride leisurely back to their companions once more. “He acts as if he didn’t know what to do next.”

“He’s just about wild to be out again,” returned Allie, gathering up her reins preparatory to joining the lads at the head of the procession. “You see, he was shut up ’most eight weeks, so I don’t wonder he wants to make up for it. I expect he’ll break his neck, though; for he’s so near-sighted that he can’t see without his glasses, and of course he can’t wear them with that patch over his eye.”

“How long is he going to wear it?” asked Marjorie soberly.

“I don’t know; a good while, the doctor says, but I don’t think Charlie minds much, after the other.”

“I suppose he came awfully near” Marjorie paused, with a little shiver.

Allie nodded understandingly.

“Yes; he didn’t have any idea of it, though, till that day he met Dr. Hornblower at the Everetts’. After that he was dreadfully blue; you know he wouldn’t stir out anywhere, for ever so long.”

“Say, Allie,” began Marjorie abruptly; “do you remember that day before he was hurt?”

“When you were so cross?” inquired Allie mercilessly.

“Yes. Did Charlie ever say anything about it?”

“Why, no,” answered Allie after a little reflection. “I don’t believe he ever thought of it again.”

“I am glad of it,” responded Marjorie; but still she did not look altogether pleased. She would have preferred that her words should carry a little more weight. Then she went on with her confession, “Well, I kept thinking about it, till I began to feel as if I’d done it all. You know I said I hoped something would happen. I wanted to come straight down here, that very night, but mamma wouldn’t let me, not even long enough to just say I was sorry; and then the doctor wouldn’t let any of us see him for ever so long, so I never said anything about it. Would you now, or would you let it go?”

“I don’t know,” said Allie thoughtfully. “Charlie’d never lay up anything of that kind; but I always just like to say I’m sorry, when I’ve been hateful to him or Howard. It kind of smoothes things out; but you can do as you like.”

“Hi, you girls!” exclaimed Grant, dashing past them at this moment, after capering about the wagons in a manner calculated to bring down Mrs. Pennypoker’s denunciations upon his yellow head. “What makes you so puppywented slow? Come on!”

“All right!” And Allie scampered off at his heels, sitting very straight and trim in her pretty new saddle.

Howard and Ned went after them, and Charlie was just ready to follow when he heard some one coming up behind him on his blindfold side.

“Wait just one minute, Charlie,” said Marjorie’s voice in his ear. “I want to say something to you just to say” She paused, and swallowed hard for a minute; then she went on steadily, “how sorry I’ve been that I was so mean to you that day your eye was hurt. I wanted to tell you so right off then, but I couldn’t. But I kept thinking about it, all the time you were ill, and ’twas most as bad as if I’d thrown the ball.” Marjorie stopped; the very earnestness of her apology made it hard to utter.

Charlie turned his head to look at her. He was surprised to see her face so pale and her lips trembling.

“That’s all right enough, Marjorie,” he said heartily. “I knew you didn’t mean it, and I didn’t think any more about it. Give us your fist, and then we’ll go after the others.”

Sunset, the next night, found the party comfortably established in their new quarters, on the very bank of the willow-bordered creek that plunged into the river, forty feet away. Across the creek and six hundred feet down the valley, dingy and brown with much service stood the tents of the engineering corps; but the officers’ tent was deserted, for its occupants had come over to pay their respects at Camp Burnam, as the children had christened it. The site for the camp had been fixed upon, two days beforehand, and it was but the work of an hour to unpack the wagons and pitch the four tents which made up the outfit. At the south were the sleeping-tents, with Mrs. Burnam presiding over one, and Mr. Everett over the other, while at the east, close to the creek, were those given up to dining and cooking, where Janey and Wang Kum held sway by day, with many a wrangle over the possession of the little camp-stove, and many a heated discussion as to the relative merits of Asiatic and African cookery.

The stove had been the first thing to be unpacked, and by the time the last guy-rope was made fast, the last roll of bedding opened and arranged in its place, the welcome call to supper was sounded, and they gathered about the long table, spread in the open air, in the golden sunset light. Then the elders settled themselves for the evening, glad to rest after their long ride, while the children raced up and down the camp, exploring all the nooks and corners of their little domain, before throwing themselves down on a pile of blankets to watch the full moon as it rose from a bank of cloud just above the low hills to the eastward, and threw its white light over their gay group. Fifteen feet away from them Mrs. Burnam sat in the doorway of her tent, with Louise at her feet. The girl’s golden hair was glistening in the moonlight, as she raised her head to speak to the topographer of the party, a sandy-haired, jovial young fellow, so lately come from “Sheff” that he retained all the slang and easy assurance of the genuine college boy. Ten months of camp life had made him hail with delight the prospect of paying court to a pretty girl; and he had attached himself to her side to the utter exclusion of Dr. Brownlee and the grave, taciturn leveller, who had retired from the contest and was devoting himself to Mrs. Burnam, whom he had known for years. For a few moments, the doctor stood looking on; then he turned away and joined the group of children, who received him enthusiastically.

“I’ll tell you what, this is fine!” said Charlie contentedly, while the doctor seated himself by his side, and the boy stretched himself out at full length, with his head on his friend’s knee, and lay staring up at the moon. “This is something I’ve never tried before, and always wanted to.”

“Which?” inquired Allie, as she bent over to tickle his nose with a long straw stolen from the bedding; “taking up twice as much room as belongs to you, or looking at the moon?”

“Camping out, of course,” answered her cousin, curling up his feet, in deference to her words. “Looking at the moon, too, for that matter; for I didn’t see much of the last one.”

“Speaking of moons,” interposed Grant, from the corner where he and Marjorie and Howard had been chattering and giggling together; “the last two days have been no end hard on the storm center, and I think we shall catch a blizzard soon, by the looks. Just see her now!”

Grant’s comment was in part justified, for the past two days had been undeniably hard upon Mrs. Pennypoker’s appearance. The sun is no respecter of persons, and he had beaten down upon her majestic Greek nose with precisely the same fervent caresses which he had lavished upon Marjorie’s freckled pug. Unfortunately, Mrs. Pennypoker’s neat little straw bonnet was by no means so good a protection as Marjorie’s soft scarlet felt hat, with its broad, flapping brim, and, even in the cold light of the moon, Mrs. Pennypoker’s countenance gleamed with the luster of polished mahogany, which was enhanced by the great white kerchief that she had tied over her head, to keep out the evening air. No urging could induce her to sit on a blanket on the ground; so, in the absence of upholstered chairs, Mr. Everett had arranged a wooden pail against a tall box, cushioned them both with straw and blankets, and mounted his cousin upon this rustic throne, where she sat with her skirts carefully tucked up about her and her nose in the air, looking as much out of place as a Dresden china dinner service would have done on the rough board table.

Howard laughed, as he looked at her.

“I should think Wang would like her, to put her in his Joss house,” he said disrespectfully. “What’ll she ever do, before two weeks are up? She’ll be a case for the doctor, sure enough.”

“We ought to have brought Dr. Hornblower along, to amuse her,” suggested Grant. “Come, I’m tired of this; let’s have a game of ‘I spy.’ This moonlight would be fine for it. Come on, Ned!”

“Where?” inquired Ned lazily, for he was thoroughly absorbed in the story that Dr. Brownlee was telling.

“‘I spy’; anything to get waked up.”

“Sha’n’t. I’m too comfortable to move.”

“Allie?”

“Don’t want to,” replied Allie, without stirring from her place beside Ned.

“Charlie anybody?” demanded Grant.

“What’s the use? I can’t see enough without my gigs.”

“Lazy things! Don’t disturb them, Grant,” said Marjorie scornfully. “If this is the way you’re going to do, I wish we’d left you at home. Grant, we’ll hide, and let Howard find us. Come ahead!” And they vanished into the shadow beside the cooking tent.

Three minutes later there was a vigorous splash, followed by a shriek from Marjorie, which brought the whole party flying to the spot. Down in the shallow creek sat Grant, blinking up at them in bewilderment, as he wiped the water from his eyes.

“What’s the matter?” asked Howard, as Mr. Burnam helped the boy to scramble to his feet, and up the steep bank of the stream.

“Wish you’d whitewash those guy-ropes!” responded Grant petulantly. “I tripped over ’em, and they landed me in that squdgy old creek. Marj needn’t have squealed like a cat, though, and given it all away.”

“‘If this is the way you’re going to do, I wish we’d left you at home,’” quoted Allie majestically, as she surveyed the dripping boy before her. “I think Charlie has his spectacles in his pocket, Grant, if you’d like to borrow them.”

However, this ended the frolic of the evening, for Mrs. Pennypoker summarily seized upon the young explorer and ordered him to bed, while Wang Kum spread his clothes to dry before the fire. The other boys soon followed Grant’s example, and the older people with them; so, after much wriggling and nestling about in the blankets, they at last dropped to sleep, and silence descended upon Camp Burnam.

Camp life began in earnest the next day, and for the next two weeks the party enjoyed one perpetual picnic. The children were up and out by daybreak, ready for the long days of fun, and by seven o’clock the breakfast call had sounded to gather them around the long table. It was good to see Wang Kum, tin horn in hand, emerge from his improvised kitchen, and blow the deep blast which should summon his flock to the meal; it was good to see Janey follow in his wake, armed with the great coffee-pot and a pile of light hoe-cakes, and then rush up and down behind the chairs, trying to serve them all at once, while she struggled in vain to repress an inclination to prance, and never failed to give a vigorous tweak to Wang Kum’s pigtail, as she passed him. The relation between the two servants was unique, and, at times, somewhat strained. Although Wang Kum, left to himself, would have been the most peaceable of mortals, Janey persisted in treating him as an embodied joke, and lost no opportunity to tease and torment him, until he came to regard her with a strange mingling of hatred and fear.

“Wang tell Mis’ Pen’plok’,” he would mutter, with a threatening glance from his beady eyes.

“Öl’ mis’ won’ believe you,” Janey would make answer. “She knows dat you’s a heathen, an’ won’ go to church. Cut off your great long plat, ef you don’ wan’ me to pull it no mo’. I cyarn’ help it, ef it gits in my way, all de time.” And then she would slyly lift the tip of the offending member and lay it across the table, before setting her heavy iron dish pan upon it. “Don’ you year ol’ mis’ calling you?” she would ask then. “Take care! Don’ upset all my dish tub!” And the war would begin again.

The weather left nothing to be desired, and, the party usually scattered soon after breakfast. The older men went on long hunting expeditions, in pursuit of the game which generally proved to be just over the divide; or explored the creek in search of trout, great, rich-flavored fellows, which put to shame the tiny products of our Eastern streams. The boys, in the mean time, made friends with the engineers, and spent whole days in the field. Howard and Ned attached themselves to the transitman, and took turns as head and rear chain, while Grant superintended the levelling, and Charlie trudged along in the rear with the young topographer, who had taken a sudden fancy to the boy, and gave him frequent lectures on the theory and practice of surveying, until his pupil longed for the time when he too could wear on his watch-chain the tiny blue shield, with its golden date and initials.

Then there were long rides up and down the valley, and merry evenings in camp, when they told over the adventures of the day, played games, or sang college songs to the tinkling notes of the mandolin which Louise had brought with her. There was an elaborate afternoon tea, when Mrs. Burnam and Louise devoted their entire supply of tin plates and cups to the entertainment of the whole corps of engineers, down to the very axmen, and feasted them upon the miscellaneous delicacies concocted by Janey and Wang. Three days later, this hospitality was returned by a grand dinner-party at the lower camp, when venison and trout were the main dishes of the meal, and the table was set and served with a masculine disregard for appearances.

But the last night of their holiday had to come. Evening found them all gathered at Camp Burnam, watching the darkness settle around their pleasant forest home. Both camps were to be struck on the following day, for the engineering party was to move down the river at the same time that the others started for home.

“I have only two things to mourn about,” said Charlie meditatively. “I haven’t shot a single bear, and I haven’t even seen the tail of a cayote.”

“Wish you had; ’t would have been such fun to see you turn and run,” responded Ned, as he indolently settled himself with his head on Ben’s side.

“Poor old Ben! Does he use you for a pillow?” asked Marjorie, stooping to stroke the great creature’s head.

“I say, Marjorie, stop that,” remonstrated Howard suddenly. “When you pet that end of him, this end wags, and his tail whacks awfully. Do let him go to sleep, or else warn me, so I can get out of the way.”

“You’d better try this, you fellows,” advised Ned. “It’s fine; the best bed I’ve had since I left home.”

“What’s going on here?” asked Dr. Brownlee, moving up to the group, in company with Louise and her faithful attendant, the topographer, just as Howard and Charlie stretched themselves out beside Ned.

“Nothing, only they’re getting ready for a nap,” said Allie. “Don’t you wish we didn’t have to go home to-morrow?”

“I do,” groaned Charlie. “I never had so much fun before, and I don’t want to go back to town again. I believe I’ll run off and set up in life as a brave. Will you come, too, Allie?”.

“Not if I have to live in a wick-i-up three feet square, and wear your cast-off blankets,” she answered, with some spirit. “I’m just about the right color for a squaw, though; that is, if I look as badly as the rest of you do.”

“Thank you, dear,” returned Howard laughing. “You’re at least ten shades blacker than anybody else; and Charlie is so dark that his patch hasn’t showed any for five days.”

“How about the freckles?” inquired Charlie composedly. “I don’t care; I’ve had a good time, and maybe ’twon’t be fast color.”

“It won’t hurt you, Charlie,” remarked the doctor. “You started off looking rather too white, after living in the dark for a month. This camping trip has been the best thing you could have had.”

The two weeks had certainly done the boy good, and, removed from any temptation to use his eyes, he had given them the utter rest which they demanded, until they had nearly regained their former strength. Dr. Brownlee watched him approvingly for a moment. Notwithstanding the dark sunburn on his cheeks and the shade over his right eye, it was an attractive face, in spite of its lack of real beauty, such as had fallen to the share of Ned and Grant.

“It has been immense,” said the boy regretfully. “But maybe we can come out again, next summer.”

“Don’t flatter yourself with any such notion,” said Howard. “If you’d been with papa as long as I have, you’d know that there isn’t much chance of our being here, by another summer. He may be ordered to Alaska or Arizona, by that time; and we’ll have to ’hoppee ‘long, too.’”

“Just this way,” interposed Grant, starting up abruptly with an inviting chirrup to Ben, who scrambled to his feet with a suddenness which sent the three boys rolling into an indiscriminate pile among the blankets, as their pillow went rushing away across the camp, in pursuit of some imaginary intruder.

It was late that night when the party finally broke up and went to their tents; it was later still before the usual gentle snores arose from Mrs. Pennypoker’s corner. Soon afterwards, the silence of the night was broken by the sound of stealthy footsteps, coming up the river bank from the engineers’ tents. A moment later, the music from a full orchestra of combs roused the sleepers from their dreams.

“Farewell, farewell, my own true love!” they wailed, in a gusty and oft-repeated chorus, until even Ben’s feelings overpowered him, and, running to the door of the tent, he raised his nose towards the waning moon, and howled till his voice was husky. Then the swaying curtain at the doorway of the tent dropped once more, and all was still. The play was over, and the orchestra had ceased. Camp Burnam’s story was ended.