"There is a column of smoke in the valley," Ned answered. "I thought
at first that there were two, but I may have been mistaken. Do you
remember what two columns of smoke would have indicated?"

"Of course!" laughed Frank. "If I should become lost in woods or
mountains, or anywhere, I'd build two fires and get wet wood to make
smudge, good and plenty. That would mean that I was lost and needed
assistance. That's the Boy Scout Indian signal for help. I remember
when we saw it north of the Arctic Circle, don't you?"

"I won't be apt to forget it right away," was the reply.

The boys remained standing on the summit for some moments, although
it was now too dark for them to distinguish objects in the valley
below. All around the June night called to them with its silences and
its sharp and sudden rasp of sounds. There were the mountains,
brooding, heavy, mysterious, and there were the fleets of flying
clouds reaching down to wrap their summits!

"It is simply great up here!" Ned exclaimed presently. "That is the
only word that seems to express it--great!"

"Yes, it is fine for a change," Frank admitted, "though I don't
believe in the wilds as a permanent thing! Everything in the
mountains and forests seems to me to be crude and half done. This, I
presume, is because the world isn't finished yet. Those who come to
places like this catch the Creator with his sleeves rolled up, if
that isn't a coarse way of saying it."

"I like it, just the same!" Ned declared. "It is glorious! It is