es of
Idaho. Such a treat as my mountain-loving soul did have! I still have
the map he drew that night, with the trails and camping-places marked.
And I said, innocence itself, "_I'm_ going to Idaho on my honeymoon!"
And he said, "I'm not going to marry till I find a girl who wants to go
to Idaho on her honeymoon!" Then we both laughed.

But the deciding event in his eyes was when we planned our first long
walk in the Berkeley hills for a certain Saturday, November 22, and that
morning it rained. One of the tenets I was brought up on by my father
was that bad weather was _never_ an excuse for postponing anything; so I
took it for granted that we would start on our walk as planned.

Carl telephoned anon and said, "Of course the walk is off."

"But why?" I asked.

"The rain!" he answered.

"As if that makes any difference!"

At which he gasped a little and said all right, he'd be around in a
minute; which he was, in his Idaho outfit, the lunch he had suggested
being entirely responsible for bulging one pocket. Off we started in the
rain, and such a day as we had! We climbed Grizzly Peak,--only we did
not know it for the fog and rain,--and just over the summit, in the
shelter of a very drippy oak tree, we sat down for lunch. A fairly
sanctified expression came over Carl's face as he drew forth a rather
damp and frayed-looking paper-bag--as a king might look who uncovered
the chest of his most precious court jewels before a courtier deemed
worthy of that honor. And before my puzzled and somewhat doubtful eyes
he spread his treasure--jerked bear-meat, nothing but jerked bear-meat.
I never had seen jerked anything, let alone tasted it. I was used to
the conventional picnic sandwiches done up in waxed paper, plus a
stuffed egg, fruit, and cake. I was ready for a lunch after the
conservative pattern, and here I gazed upon a mess of most
unappetizing-looking, wrinkled, shrunken, jerked bear-meat, the rain
dropping down on it through the oak tree.

I would have gasped if I had not caught the look of awe and reverence on
Carl's face as he gazed eagerly, and with what respect, on his offering.
I merely took a hunk of what was supplied, set my teeth into it, and
pulled. It was salty, very; it looked queer, tasted queer, _was_ queer.
Yet that lunch! We walked farther, sat now and then under other drippy
trees, and at last decided that we must slide home, by that time soaked
to the skin, and I minus the heel to one shoe.

I