On all sides the country was visible for miles, although the mist to-day hid the further distances. South-eastward Narragansett Bay stretched out to the Sound, dully blue. White sails appeared here and there, and a steamer was making its way westward with a dark streak of smoke trailing ahead. The school buildings, directly below, looked no larger than cigar-boxes. Northward the country stretched away in wooded hills and meadows, sprinkled with farms and tiny white houses. Riverport was like a toy village and only a haze of smoke told where Providence lay at the head of the bay. Lake Matunuxet wound its long length toward the west like a wide blue-gray ribbon. The roads were buff scratches that dipped and turned across the green and russet landscape. The distant screech of a locomotive drew their eyes to where a freight train crawled along the edge of the bay beyond Riverport. “It’s a dandy view, isn’t it?” asked Evan, who had seated himself on the edge of the great flat ledge with his legs hanging over a sixty-foot drop. “Yes, but it’s all-fired cold,” answered Rob. “Let’s get over on the other side and start a fire. I’m hungry enough to eat Jelly’s dirty chops.” The wind which, since they had left the protection of the trees, had been growing stronger each moment, blew coldly from the water. Overhead the clouds were drifting fast, and now and then a faint yellow radiance momentarily gave promise of sunlight. The others were glad to follow Rob’s suggestion. The ledge sloped westward to a litter of giant boulders and slabs, and among these there were traces of many former fires. The boys set about collecting wood: small branches of bushes and the remains of previous stores. Malcolm viewed the result dubiously. “This isn’t going to be nearly enough fuel, fellows,” he said. “Somebody will have to go down and get some more.” Rob looked interestedly at the distant hills. Jelly continued emptying the treasures from his pockets into a crevice in the rock. Evan looked thoughtfully at the pile of wood. “How far do we have to go?” he asked. “Down to the trees. It’s not so far on this side. You and I will go, Evan, and leave these lazy duffers to start the fire. I want a good big bed of coals to cook on.” “All right,” said Evan, “but let’s wait a few minutes more. Gee, I haven’t really got my breath back yet.” “I wish you’d let me go,” murmured Rob. “What a beautiful view it is, to be sure.” “I’d go for wood,” said Jelly earnestly, “but I’m pretty tuckered, Malcolm. I suppose it’s being so fleshy that――” “You’re not fleshy,” said Rob, “you’re _fat_, Jelly. Fleshy is much too polite a name for your trouble.” “Never mind,” said Malcolm. “You sit down and get rested, Jelly. At least, you had the decency to _offer_ to go, which is more than I can say for somebody.”