During the night I was wakened by somebody clutching my arm.  It was Aggie who lay next to me.  When I raised my head she pointed off into the woods to our left.  At a height of perhaps four feet from the ground a ghastly red glow was moving rapidly away from us.  It was not a torch; it was more a radiance, and it moved not evenly, but jerkily.  I could feel the very hair rising on my head and it was all I could do to call Tish.  When we had roused her, however, the glow had faded entirely and she said we had had a nightmare.

The snare the next morning contained a skunk, and we moved on as quickly as possible, without attempting to secure the thong, of which we had several.  We gathered some puffballs to soak for breakfast and in a clearing I found some blackberry bushes.  We were very cheerful that morning, for if we could capture rabbits and skunks, we were sure of other things, also, and soon we would be able to add fish to our menu.  True, we had not had much time to commune with our souls, and Aggie’s arms were so sunburned that she could not bend them at the elbows.  But, as Tish said, we had already proved our contention that we could get along without men or houses or things.  Things, she said, were the curse of modern life; we filled our lives with things instead of thoughts.

It was when we were ready to cook the puffballs that we missed the kettle!  Tish was very angry; she said it was evident that the bear was mischievous and that all bears were thieves. (See the “Young Woodsman.”) But I recalled the glow of the night before, and more than once I caught Aggie’s eyes on me, filled with consternation.  For we had seen that kettle leaving the camp with some of our fire in it, and bears are afraid of fire!

We reached the lake at noon and it seemed as if we might soon have time to sit down and rest.  But there was a great deal to do.  Aggie was of no assistance on account of her arms, so Tish and I put up the tent.  The “Young Woodsman” said it was easy.  First you tied three long poles together near the top and stood them up so they made a sort of triangle.  Then you cut about a dozen and filled in between the three.  That looked easy, but it took an afternoon, and our first three looked like this first cut.

[Illustration: 
  AS THE FIRST THREE LOOKED
  AS THEY SHOULD HAVE LOOKED]

We had caught a rabbit by noon, and Aggie being unfit for other work, and the kettle being gone, Tish set her to roasting it.  It was not very good, but we ate some, being ravenous.  The method was simplicity itself—­two forked sticks in the ground, one across to hang the rabbit to and a fire beneath.  It tasted rather smoky.

In the afternoon we finished putting up the tepee, and Tish made a fishhook out of a hairpin and tied it to a strong creeper I had found.  But we caught no fish.  We had more rabbit for supper, with some puffballs smoked and a few huckleberries.  But by that time the very sight of a rabbit sickened me, and Aggie began to talk about broiled beefsteak and fried spring chicken.