there in the woods we will worship him, while millions of forest
creatures about us, flying, bounding, or building, in obedience to his
laws, simply worship too."

A music soft, deep, sighing, like the murmur of an organ under the
fingers of a master musician, rolled through the pine-tops as the band
of campers, guides included, followed Doc into the forest. They passed
the clumps of slender trees near the camp, and reached a dimly-lit green
aisle.

Towering pines, so tall and erect that they seemed shooting upward to
kiss the clouds, were the pillars of their cathedral. Its roof of
tasselled boughs was stabbed by flashing needles of sunlight, which let
in a flickering, mellow radiance, and traced a pattern on the woodland
carpet. Every whiff of forest air was natural incense.

Dr. Phil stood as if in the audience-chamber of the King, and removed
his wide-brimmed hat.

"Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be
honor and glory, for ever and ever. Amen!" he said.

Then Cyrus's voice led the worship.

"Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!"

he sang, in a strong, glad outburst.

Boys and guides, in a great chorus, swelled the familiar words. Each
sweetly chirping woodland bird, after its own manner, echoed them. The