It was here that the inexperienced New Englanders longed to camp. They wanted to wake in the morning, they said, and look far across the blue distances, over the tops of the highest trees, to the mountains beyond, like Moses gazing into the Promised Land. But they willingly consented to ride down on the other side to a more sheltered spot and camp by a tiny mountain lake, when Malcolm, aided by Donald and Virginia, explained that a snow-storm was not an unlikely occurrence away up there--even in July! It was strange to sit around the big camp-fire that night after supper--all alone in a mountain wilderness; strange to rehearse school incidents and to listen to Malcolm's stories of hunting for elk and antelope in that very spot; strangest of all to go to sleep on pine boughs and blankets which the boys had spread in their tents. The weird, lonesome cry of the coyotes startled more than one sleeping Vigilante that night, and Vivian nestled closer beneath Aunt Nan's protecting arm. It was not until the next morning when they started for home that they knew of the bear, who, smelling the ham and bacon, had wandered into camp, only to be repulsed by Malcolm and an extra log on the fire. In that strange, just-before-dawn stillness Virginia awoke to miss Priscilla from her side. She moved the tent flap, and looked out. Priscilla stood by the entrance, her eyes raised to the distant mountains--great shadows beneath a star-strewn sky. She was learning the old, old secrets of those mountains at night. "I couldn't help it, Virginia," she whispered, as she crept back a few moments later. "I've wanted so to see what it was like at night, and now I know. It's bigger than ever! I don't believe that any one could look at the mountains and the stars and ever be doubtful about--God and--and--things like that, do you?" * * * * * The next day, perfect as the one before, they went down, down, down the trail, through the canyon, across the prairie, and home once more. "Mr. Hunter named it just right," Priscilla said to Dick, who came to take the horses. "I've never felt so well-acquainted in my life!" CHAPTER IV THE BEAR CANYON BEAR "Gee!" cried Alden Winthrop. "I wish I was out there!" "So do I!" echoed his brother John. "I wish I _were_, dear," corrected his mother. "Well, _were_, then, Mother. There isn't much difference in the way you say it. I wish I was there anyway!" His mother sighed, but Alden's thoughts were far from English grammar. Instead, they were centering upon the contents of a fat letter from his sister Priscilla, which his father had just read. "I've got more respect for Priscilla than I ever had in all my life," he continued. "I never supposed she'd have sand enough to go on a bear hunt. Now, if she'd just shot the bear herself, it would be----"