It was pleasant, although a trifle hot and smoky on a warm day, to sit around a fire and refresh our wearied frames with food. Joe Carter had a clay pipe, and after he had eaten, tried the experiment of smoking dried leaves in it. He coughed a good deal, and did not seem to derive that joy from the process which we had all heard arose from the use of a pipe. After a little time we set out once more, climbed to the top of Devil's Pulpit, and then took the road toward the Devil's Basin. In that region, the Devil seems to have had a large interest in the scenery. The road is of the pleasantest, however. Here, before the snow has hardly left the woods, the spring "peepers" sing insistently from a little bog, while, a few weeks later, the gentle blossoms of the hepatica emerge shyly from the dead leaves, and the anemone springs up on the hillside. Now, although the tide of summer ebbed, the woods were crammed with things of interest. We investigated the Basin,--another deserted quarry. We explored the edges of the bog, and stalked a flock of crows who had gathered in the top of an oak. The afternoon passed at first pleasantly, but finally with some tedium,--the day seemed interminably long. Yet we grudged every moment, for we realized that the hours of vacation were numbered. We rambled about till we became aware that we were very tired, that the day was waning, and that three or four long miles lay between us and home. So we hurried through our suppers, and started on the return trip. Joe Carter walked a little in advance, calling out from time to time:-- "You fellers better hurry up, unless you want to camp all night in the woods." Then he would casually take out his revolver and look mysteriously toward the deep undergrowth on each side of the road, as if to signify that he could not hold himself responsible for what manner of thing might beset us after the powers of darkness should be exalted. We did not want to camp all night in the woods (Ed Mason and I had not forgotten a certain experience!) and we hastened our steps. When we reached Mr. Harris's little shanty, it was closed and locked, and the old gentleman had gone,--whither we knew not. Our fish he had kindly preserved for us in a pail of water. We gathered them up, and hurried on. We debated what was the exact hour, and both Ed Mason and Rob Currier thought that sunset was close upon us. Ed remarked that he had seen one or two bats fluttering about, as we came through the woods. Evidently the creatures of the night were beginning to make their appearance. Tired we were,--we knew that,--and a little moody at the thought of approaching school. I had a small, sharp pebble in my shoe, which made walking very painful. So I had to delay the party until I could rid myself of it.