Sometimes the little party would walk four or five miles, something that the little hunchback had never been able to do until she became a Pioneer. The visit to the Flume was not only repeated, but they visited the Lost River. The weird mystery of the silver stream, as it gleamed luringly between massive gray bowlders, tempted them down the little ladder, to slide over rocky ledges, and climb stony declivities, until at last they were standing beneath the rocks in Shadow Cave. The Giant’s Pot Hole, with the shiny water peering at them from between the stone walls, so suggestive of giants and strange dragons, with its weird, mystical stream, made the underground trip to Mother Nature’s caverns a revelation and a delight to all of the party. They ascended Mount Agassiz at Bethlehem, where they tried to signal to Philip and Janet on the top of Garnet, through the sun’s rays shining on a mirror, but although this method of signaling was greatly enjoyed, it was not very successful. With all of the merry times, however, the young invalid on the mountain was not forgotten, although he and Janet—with Mrs. Page for company sometimes—passed many hours in each other’s company. Then came a cool, sunny afternoon in August, when they all gathered around a trench camp-fire on the top of Garnet, for Philip had convalesced sufficiently to do a little climbing, and had a luncheon in the woods. And it was the two young soldiers who boiled the potatoes in a pot that hung from a green pole, fastened in crotches on two upright saplings over the fire-pit, from which a trench a foot deep branched out on each of its four sides. This new kind of fire, as Sheila called it, was a real soldier’s fire, for it was where Philip had cooked his meals before he was visited by Nathalie and Janet, his good angels, as he called them. With keen satisfaction the children watched Philip toast the sweet, nutty bacon for his guests, while Van showed the girls _his way_ of making flapjacks, as he tossed them so high in the air that a shrill, “Oh, you’ll lose it!” almost unnerved the would-be cook. But no such dire catastrophe happened, and soon they were all enjoying the brown cakes spread with maple sugar, and war-bread sandwiched with bacon between. After the edibles had been disposed of and the fire was banked, as Philip called it, for a later meal, Danny and Tony made a Pioneer Camp-fire, and around its glowing embers—for the wind was keen that cool August day up there on those craggy heights—they held a Liberty Cheer. As they were about to cast lots as to who should tell the first story, Van, who never tired of listening to Philip’s experiences, begged him to tell the girls something of his life as a soldier fighting in France. CHAPTER XIX “THE WHITE COMRADE”