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                                         75.
than that on a clear day, so a sunset, with the sky filled with painted clouds, is far more gorgeous than one in which a red ball of fire sinks below the blue hills from a clear sky.
   The wind having died down, we started on up the lake.  The fine supper had set our psirits on high once more and we treated the natives to a whistling concert all the way up.
   Night falls quickly in the mountains and soon we were paddling in pitch darkness.  Mile after mile we reeled off this way, the night growing blacker and blacker and the lights of the settlement not appearing. Soon we could dimly see the spot where the two shores came quite near together. Here we knew there were dangerous rocks and we hesitated what to do -  whether to camp there for the night or to go on to the Landing. Seeing the light of a camp on the nearby shore, we decided to make for it and find out just how far we were from the village.
   In the blackness I stumbled up to a camp and there met the owner who told me that our destination was still somewhat distant. However he said we should not think of going but should spend the night with him. We remonstrated, not wishing to trouble him at such a late hour. But he insisted and led us to a large open camp in which there were two iron beds[[4 chars deleted]], the first we had seen in two weeks. We were happy in thinking we would not have to roll up in soaking blankets that night under a wet tent. We had a splendid sleep with pleasantest thoughts for our unknown host.