"I made the bed myself," said Diane happily, "of red willow shoots from
the swamp, and I carved these forks and spoons out of wood Johnny
gathered."

"I do wish I were clever!" grumbled Philip in acute discontent. "After
breakfast I'm going to whittle out a wildwood pipe and make a birch
canoe, and likely I'll weave a rush mat and a willow bed and carve some
spoons and forks and a sundial."

"Will you be through by noon?" asked Diane politely.

Philip laughed.

"As a matter of fact," he said easily, "I'm going with you to lamp
birds. I want to duck that fool doctor."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," said Diane with decision, "for I'm
going to stay in camp and bake bread."

The bread was baking odorously and a variety of shavings flying
ambitiously from an embryo pipe by ten o'clock. At noon the doctor had
not yet arrived. Philip dexterously served a savory fish chowder from
a pot hanging within a tripod of saplings and refused to dwell upon the
thought of his eventual departure.

A man appeared among the trees to the east, switching absently at the
underbrush with a cane.

Philip sniffed.