om the others.

"Mr. Allen, your dream next," called Ham, mystically.

"Well, I dreamed of beautiful autumn days, spent in a splendid grove of
trees, cutting choice timbers for a cabin; and then I dreamed of a crowd
of old men, sitting before an open fire-place, telling about how they had
built a cabin long years before, when they were boys."

"That needs no interpreter. Phil, your dream is now demanded. Tell it
truly, lie and you will live to suffer. Careful, now, and do not hurry."

"Well, I dreamed a dandy," cried Phil. "I saw a crazy loon standing in
front of a fire, gazing into fiery embers, and--" There was a crackling
in the fire, a shower of sparks went up, and one of the altar stones
turned over.

"O, how sad," groaned Ham, "that such a man should lie so to the great
Spook Doctor. In wrath he tears down the altar--hisses forth his
disapproval in clouds of tiny spark-thoughts. Willis, you are next. Now,
do not rile the mighty Master." "Well," said Willis, "my dream was not so
strange. I just dreamed over and over the thoughts I took to bed with me.
I saw cabins and mines and tunnels and miners of all descriptions, only
that there was one that looked very familiar, and it was a very hard one
to find and get to." Ham had failed to replenish the fire, and it had
burned to a tiny, smoldering heap of ashes.

"I can not answer that one," said Ham, "for the Great Spirit has now left
me. Let's eat our breakfast, and I hope it will be more substantial than
these dreams."

Soon breakfast was under way. It was a simple meal and soon over with.
Cooking utensils were washed and packs rolled, ready for the day's
journey.

"What time of day?" asked Chuck.

"Seven-ten," promptly replied Willis, "and just the time to be starting
through the Park, if we want to see it before the dew is gone." At the
spring they stopped to drink and to examine the deer tracks in the soft,
black muck. From there the trail led off, zigzaging down the gentle
slope. On either side of the path the wild grasses and ferns grew in rank
profusion, while scattered here and there on the soft, green carpet were
great numbers of dainty Maraposa lilies. Now and then a tall, green
stalk of the columbine could be seen, and occasionally a wooly circle of
bracts on the stem of a late anemone. At intervals tall ferns bent over
the woodland pathway, as if to hide and protect it for the private use
of the many tiny wild feet that scampered over it daily.