"Thank you," I said. "It seems to me that I am all the time having to
thank you, you are always so kind. I must say that you are a perfectly
stunning guide."
So we got to the camp, laughing, and Susie had to be told the story all
over again, while I changed shoes and stockings in the little tent, where
there was the thickest possible bed of fragrant balsam, covered with
blankets.
It is getting late, Aunt Jennie, and I'll have to tell you the rest of it
another time. It was perfectly glorious.
Really I think it is a pity that Dr. Grant should bury himself in such a
place. He ought to live in our atmosphere, for he is entirely fitted for
it.
So good night, Aunt Jennie, with best love from your
HELEN.
CHAPTER XIII
_From John Grant's Diary_
During the years that I spent abroad, in study, there were times when a
tremendous longing would come over me, so great that I was sorely tempted
to run away, even if for a few weeks only, and revel in the satisfaction
of my desire. It would seize upon me during long evenings, when I was
sometimes a little wearied with hard work. I hungered at such times for
the smoke of a camp-fire, for its resinous smells, for the distant calls
of night birds, for the crackling flames that cast strange lights upon
friendly faces.
All this was ours on the evening we spent after our little caribou hunt.
Miss Jelliffe, who had had some slight experience with small target
rifles, made a good shot at a fine stag, and we were all very cheerful.
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