In a short time they again came into full view of the great, blue lake. How immense it was! The Great Arm alone was a lake. To the right lay Wild Horse Island; the camping ground must be very near. Had it not been for the sound of voices or the driving of tent-stakes the camp would have been hard to locate, so snugly was it concealed among the trees and by a thicket of cottonwoods and small pines. It was a busy scene which Bess saw as she rode into camp. Already the tents were being pitched; boxes and bundles and guns were being carried from the beach; beautiful setters were sniffing at every leaf and twig; while over near the branches of an overhanging cedar, Joe, the colored cook, with white cap, coat and apron deftly donned had already lighted a fire preparatory for the first meal. Cheery greetings of welcome were exchanged as Bess slid from her saddle and each one of the girls seemed bent upon talking loudest and longest. “Oh! girls—girls—save a little breath or else you won’t have enough to last ten days!” called Mrs. Bland, with the authority of a chaperon, but her voice was not heard above the laughing and chattering of the other three. Such a time pumping up the air-beds, shaking blankets, unpacking satchels, arranging rugs and adjusting the other things in the ladies’ boudoir! “Little Honey” (as Mrs. Bland’s little daughter had been nicknamed) was too engrossed trying to attire herself in new, blue overalls and a boy’s “really” shirt, to be interested in her surroundings. Tucking her braids under a big, straw hat, then thrusting her tiny fists deep into the spacious pockets, she cried gleefully,—“Well, Mother—Here’s Peter Pan.” Undaunted by the teasings and laughter of the other girls “Peter Pan” strode out of the tent to show herself to the “other boys.” “Oh, you dogs! Charge! Lady! Jack Down! Charge, Gladstone! Didn’t you dogs ever see a boy before!” she cried amid frantic efforts to ward off the playful, eager animals. Just then she heard the rattle of wheels and ran to meet Mr. George who had driven down from Kalispell so that the horses and light wagon could be used in going to the good hunting fields each day. “I’m ‘Peter Pan,’ and these pockets are so handy, and it is so much easier to climb that I guess I’ll just stay a boy,” she announced as she clambered into the seat beside Mr. George and reached for the reins. Such a hungry, hearty “bunch” as sat down to dinner! How the aroma of the forest and the sweet, pine laden air whetted their appetites! “Peter Pan” could not get enough bread with its thick layer of apple-sauce. Joe, the cook, looked on with trepidation and wondered how long the larder would supply the demand.