For some time we all remained very silent, as if oppressed by the awe of
these tales, and I had to take a desperate measure to change the trend of
thought. In a low voice I began to sing a lilting Irish melody with a
sweet refrain in which Miss Jelliffe joined, soon followed by Sammy's
deep tones and Susie's shrill ones, while Frenchy began to keep time with
a blackened pot-stick.
So it was only a few minutes before cheerful thoughts returned to us, as
the darkness deepened and the stars glittered, clear and close at hand.
Then we finally said good-night and Miss Jelliffe sought her tent,
attended by Susie.
We men went away to our lean-to, and talked a little longer before
stretching out for a sound night's sleep. And it seemed but a few
instants before we were up again, with the sunlight beginning to stream
over the distant hillocks towards the sea that was now hidden from us. I
took my rod to the outlet, where trout were rising, and returned soon to
find that coffee was being made while the men were cutting bacon and
chopping more wood.
Then Susie came to us, wanting some hot water and hurriedly returning to
the tent. Finally the flaps were turned aside and the young woman came
out, rosy of cheek and bright-eyed. Susie had a small fire before her
tent, and Miss Jelliffe held her hands before it for a moment. When she
came towards us I was kneeling on a small rock at the water's edge,
cleaning trout, while Frenchy was scraping away at the caribou head, the
scalp of which hung over a pole, to dry a little after a good salting.
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