weren't
the dusty, forlorn exiles she had known in Central Park. They weren't
even the sheltering, friendly Camp trees. They were free and proud. It
was terribly exciting to come out suddenly on an open space and look
down on them brandishing their branches in the wind like the spears of
a great army.

And when at midday the Penguins built a fire and cooked sausages and
bacon over the embers, that was fun. Pip-Emma felt that even Ma would
think it fun to cook under trees. One day when Pip-Emma was rich and
famous, she'd bring Pop and Ma up here and show them how. Pride in
herself as a woodsman who knew where you should build a fire and where
you shouldn't began to kindle in her. When she got back, she'd tell
the Gang. There were a lot of things the Gang didn't know that
Pip-Emma knew now. She'd sit on the stoop of the shabby brownstone
house, with her face between her fists, and tell them: "Then, one day,
we went on a two days' hike. Gee, that was swell!" She wouldn't tell
about her Gang, because it consisted of just one Penguin. And the kids
wouldn't understand.

* * * * *

They began to climb again. But there was a change somewhere. The wind
had died down. They were surrounded by a dense silence. And when they
looked at one another, faintly uneasy, they saw that a thin veil hung
over them. Prissy saw it first. She didn't like it. But just when she
made up her mind that one of the mountain mists was creeping up on
them and that they'd better turn back, she put her foot on a hidden
root and went down as though she'd been shot. The pain was so bad that
she cried out. Only once. Then she set her teeth. But she couldn't get
up.

"It's my ankle," she said quietly. "I guess I've broken it."

The Penguins knew all about splints and first aid. Prissy sat very
white with the sweat running down her cold face. She'd seen Pip-Emma
watching her intently, and not for a king's ransom would she have so
much as groaned. In a sort of way she was glad this had happened.
She'd show Pip-Emma something.

"One of you had better go back to the Camp for help," she said.

And even as she said it she knew that no one must go. The mist was
like a besieging enemy whose scouts having found them defenseless now
bore down on them in full force. They could hardly see one another.
They'd have to stay together till the fog lifted. Sometimes, if the
wind didn't come up, a fog lasted for two days. And their provisions
had been sent ahead to the