Then, far at
the end of the path of light, something moved. There were two small,
luminous spots, then in an instant two more, a little larger. Slowly the
shifting lights and shadows took shape, and there, before them, stood two
deer--a doe and a tiny fawn.

"O, aren't they beautiful?" whispered Willis. Just then the fawn left its
mother's side and came fearlessly down the path of light--one, two, six
steps--staring into the wonderful, dazzling beam. There was a gentle call
from the mother, and in an instant they had disappeared into the shadows
from whence they had come. There was a bound, a broken twig, a rustle
of dead leaves, and all was quiet again.

For a long time Willis and Mr. Allen waited, watching for them to return;
but they did not come. The fire slowly died out and turned into a pile of
ghostly ashes, while the party slept on until morning.

CHAPTER VIII

The Second Day Out

Ham was the first to awaken in the morning. A pair of saucy jays had
been gossiping about the little party for nearly an hour. At first they
just exchanged ideas, making their observations from a reasonable
distance. One perched on the topmost limb of a dead pine, the other
bobbing up and down on the slender twigs of a neighboring aspen.

"Those crazy jabberers would dispute the identity of their own mates,"
exclaimed Ham, as he pulled on his trousers and got into his high boots.
"They talk about some folks always having too much to say, but--O, shut
up, you noisy robbers!" He reached for a heavy stick, and sent it
flying into the air toward the aspen. There was a flapping of wings, a
harsh, scolding threat, and the jays retreated to talk it over.

Very soon the camp was all astir, and there was a general call for a
fire.

"You don't want to forget that we have the most important ceremony of
this entire trip to go through with here yet this morning before any of
us can eat breakfast. What's your hurry, anyway? Get busy here, Fat, and
get another armful of wood like this that I have. In about three shakes
we'll have an altar built and we'll have our oracle fire burning in less
than a jiffy. Be quick, now, but don't disturb the Spirit," cried Ham.

"Oracle fire, your grandmother," interrupted Phil. "I'm as hungry as a
pet lion, and it's breakfast for me, and that right soon; oatmeal, a
boiled egg, and some rye bread sounds about right!"

"Me, too," chimed in Fat, reaching for his haversack. "Hungry's no name,
and I do