"And it's so plaguey awkward!" cried Frankie. "Here one of us has to hold the snapper shut so the others can see. Here, Mina! I've played Goddess of Liberty long enough; _you_ hold the lamp awhile." Wyn slung a line from one end of the tent to the other, and on this they hung their clothes. All the girls were provided with warm pajamas as being safer night garments under canvas than the muslin robes they wore at home. "I _do_ feel so funny," cried Percy, hopping into her own nest. "I can't curl my toes up in my nightgown--they stick right out at the bottom of these trousers!" "And doesn't the grass tickle your feet?" cried Frank, dancing about between the cots. "My, my! this _is_ camping out in real earnest. O-o-o! Here's a trickle of water running under the side of the tent, Wyn." "You can thank your stars it isn't running through a hole in the tent right upon your heads," responded the captain. "Do get into bed, Frank." Even Frank was quiet at last. The day had been a strenuous one. The muttering thunder in the distance lulled them to sleep. Soon the big white tent upon the knoll by the lake was silent save for the soft breathing of the girls and their chaperone. And--odd as it may seem, considering the strangeness of their surroundings--all the girls slept soundly through the night. It was Wyn Mallory herself who first opened her eyes and knew, by the light outside, that it must be near sunrise. Up she popped, stepping lightly over the cold grass so as not to arouse her mates and Mrs. Havel, and reached the opening. She peered through. To the east the horizon was aglow with melting shades of pink, amber, turquoise and rose. The sun was coming! Wyn snapped open the flap and ran out to welcome His Majesty. Then, however, she remembered that she was in pajamas, and glanced around swiftly to see if she was observed. Not a soul was in sight. At that moment the first chorus of the feathered choir that welcomes the day in the wilds, had ceased. Silence had fallen upon the forest and upon the lake. Only the lap, lap, lap of the little waves upon the shore was audible. The wind did not stir the tree branches. There was a little chill in the air after the storm, and the ground was saturated. Wyn was doubtful about that "early morning plunge" in the lake that she had heard the boys talk about, and which she had secretly determined to emulate. But the boys' camp was at the far end of Gannet Island and she could not see it at all. She wondered if Dave and his friends would plunge into that awfully cold-looking water on this chilly morning? To assure herself that the water _was_ cold she ran down to where the canoes lay and poked one big toe into the edge of the pool. Ouch! it was just like ice! "No, no!" whispered Wyn, and scuttled up the bank again, hugging herself tight in both arms to counteract the chill. But she couldn't go back to bed. It was too beautiful a morning. And all the others were sleeping soundly.