October in this country is the
camper's ideal--month"--
The last sentence was broken by a great yawn, followed presently by a
snort and an attempt at a shout, which quavered away into a queer little
whine. Garst had passed into dreamland, where men revel in fragmentary
memories and pell-mell visions.
CHAPTER VI.
AFTER BLACK DUCKS.
If Cyrus's dreams were ruffled after the morning's excitement, those of
his comrades were a perfect chaos.
A slight wind hummed wordless songs through the tasselled tops of the
pine-trees about the camp. The music was tender and drowsy as a mother's
lullaby. Contrary to their expectations, Neal and Dol were lulled to
sleep by it like babies, with a feeling as if some guardian spirit were
gliding among the tree-tops.
But when slumber held them, when the murmur increased to a surge of
sound, sank to a ripple and again rolled forth, in their dreams they
imagined it the scurrying of a deer's hoofs along some lonely forest
deer-path, the rustling of a buck through bushes, the splashing of a
mighty moose among lily-pads and grasses at the margin of a dark pond,
the startled cluck of a coon.
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