And I've kep' saying to myself for the last quarter of an hour that we
wouldn't find it--that we'd find nary a thing but mildewed logs!"
A wealth of memories was in the woodsman's eyes as he gazed up at the
timber nest, the log camp which his own hands had put up, standing on a
narrow plateau, and built against a protecting wall of rock that rose in
jagged might to a height of thirty or forty feet.
An earth bank or ridge, covered with hardy mosses and mountain creepers,
sloped gently up to the sheltered platform. To climb this was, indeed,
"as easy as rolling off a log."
"We used to have a good beaten path here, but I guess it's all growed
over," said Herb in a thick voice, as if certain cords in his throat
were swelling. "Many's the time I've blessed the sight of that old
home-camp, boys, after a hard week's trapping. Hundert's o' night's I've
slept snug inside them log walls when blasts was a-sweeping and
bellowing around, like as if they'd rip the mountain open, and tear its
very rocks out."
While the guide spoke he was leaping up the ridge.
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