As soon as Jake knew that Mr. Mackworth planned to have a day’s fishing at Josephine Falls he declined to cook Frank and Phil’s fish in a “balsam bake.”

“I’ll put that over right at the Falls,” he insisted, “while the spots are on the fish.”

The boys were up early to see the camp. There were four sleeping tents, each with a second top which extended out at one end to make a shaded entrance. Beneath this, the thick canvas floor of the tent also extended to afford a lounging place outside the tent. Light netting, weighted to keep it from blowing about, enclosed this entrance for protection against mosquitoes although, so far, the valley breeze had kept these away.

There were cots in each tent, except the one occupied by Jake, Hosmer and Skinner. Mr. Mackworth was alone in his tent but, allowing for the amount of extra equipment stored[227] therein, he had less space than the others. And, as soon as it was agreed that the party was to remain in camp for a few days, it was surprising how many articles of comfort and convenience he produced from his trunks and bags.

“Two things I insist on in camp,” Mr. Mackworth explained. “I’m willing to eat out of the skillet, so long as the food is right; I’ll drink out of my hat, if necessary, and I can sleep on the ground; but I want a place to wash my face and a comfortable chair.”

The outfit included plenty of big, collapsible, canvas chairs with backs and in each tent there was a washbasin, water bucket, a rack for towels, wash rags, comb and brush and a mirror. Another idea of Mr. Mackworth’s was a provision tent, insect proof, in which he insisted that cooking utensils and dishes be stored between meals.

Jake Green had already improvised benches to hold his pans and plates, and when breakfast was announced it was only necessary to draw the chairs nearer the savory cook fire. Jake served all with ease and despatch. On this particular morning the skilled colored boy had coffee, bacon, scrambled eggs and fried trout.

[228]

“Jake,” exclaimed Lord Pelton, “that trout is a king’s dish. It’s even better than the fish you served the night we started.”

“I had to sauté ’em,” Jake said deprecatingly. “They’re too big to fry in oil.”

“Never any other way for me,” exclaimed Captain Ludington as he conveyed a piece of the smoking fish to his mouth.

“But these eggs,” commented Lord Pelton, “they—”

“Eggs? I hadn’t anything to do with ’em,” exclaimed Jake. “Can’t anyone scramble eggs for Mr. Mackworth but himself. Talk to him about the eggs.”

“It’s so simple,” laughed their host, “that even Jake won’t do it.”

“What’s the secret?” asked Captain Ludington giving attention to the golden dish.

“No secret. All you have to do is to take ’em off before they’re cooked. In cookin’ eggs, you don’t. And then you ought to have real black pepper for seasoning; not white dust. Beat the whites and the yolks separately, just cover the bottom of the skillet with butter and keep turning the eggs from the edge of the pan to the[229] center with a fork. When they are hot, take ’em off and they’ll finish cookin’ in their own heat and you won’t have ’em hard and dry.”

Before the party broke camp the Englishmen insisted they were in a fair way to get the gout and Captain Ludington had a notebook full of directions how to prepare Mr. Mackworth’s famous spaghetti; his “camp chicken;” coffee; steamed, sautéd, fried and baked trout and the sauce for each.

“It’s a case of hindsight bein’ better than lookin’ ahead,” said Phil at breakfast when Hosmer described the trail to Josephine Falls. As there seemed no good landing place there for the Loon it was decided that Sam Skinner should stay in camp that day; and about nine o’clock the rest of the party set out for a day’s fishing at the Falls. Hosmer directed a pack horse to be loaded with Jake’s luncheon outfit and the horsemen, at last on their way for real sport, were as lively as schoolboys.

When the first hill had been crossed and “Grizzly” picked up what he called a “road” through the tall lodge-pole pines in the next valley, even Mr. Mackworth laughed.

[230]

“Anything is a ‘road’ that you can keep goin’ on and where you don’t have to stop to cut down timber,” explained “Grizzly.”

They did the former and while the others could not even make out a trail, their guide went ahead without delay. Coming out of the woods at last, the Hog Back rose before them.

“Where’s your road now?” exclaimed Phil. “I didn’t see any last night.”

“You don’t need a road in the open,” replied “Grizzly” contemptuously. “It’s all road.”

Hosmer began a swift ascent of the almost mountainous slopes. Stopping now and then to examine the rough ground ahead; turning and twisting forward on new tacks; in less than twenty minutes the party came out on the crest of the hill.

“There she is,” called out Frank, “the scene of our disaster.”

Apparently it was the last valley before the high ground beyond it broke into the foothills of the real mountains. It lay green and rolling, gay with flowers and spring-time verdure.

“Why wouldn’t that make a good ranch?”[231] asked Captain Ludington. “I can almost see the cattle and sheep gorging themselves. And over there on the bank of the river would be just the place for a big home and barns. Why there are thousands of acres here going to waste.”

“Come back in five years,” replied Mr. Mackworth soberly, “and you’ll probably see just what you describe. What you see here, you can find in thousands of places in this part of the world.”

“Could anyone come here?” broke in Phil, recalling his long days in the factory an............