For an hour they chatted, while the fire burned low, casting a
narrowing circle of light upon the black wilderness surrounding the
little camp. Some wild thing of the forest stole noiselessly to the
edge of the outer darkness, its eyes shining like two balls of fire,
then it quietly slunk away unobserved. Above the fir tops the blue
dome of heaven seemed very near and the million stars that glittered
there almost close enough to pluck from their azure setting. With a
weird, uncanny light the aurora flashed its changing colours
restlessly across the sky. No sound save the low voices of the men as
they talked, disturbed the great silence of the wilderness.
Many a time had Bob camped and hunted with his father near the coast,
in the forest to the south of Wolf Bight, but he had never been far
from home and with this his first long journey into the interior, a
new world and new life were opening to him. The solitude had never
impressed him before as it did now. The smoke of the camp-fire and
the perfume of the forest had never smelled so sweet. The romance of
the trail was working its way into his soul, and to him the land
seemed filled with wonderful things that he was to search out and
uncover for himself. The harrowing tales that the men were telling of
winter storms and narrow escapes from wild animals had no terror for
him.
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