there were strange echoes. Again, at the lower end of the ravine, they descended rapidly for half a mile by a steep way, into the woods again at last, and finally stopped by a brook for the farewell lunch.
The last of the powdered eggs, spinach soaked and boiled as long as they dared wait, till it wasn't too tough to eat, the last of the bacon from Lou's and Mr. Rogers' packs, a single small flapjack apiece, a quarter cake of sweet chocolate for each, and tea, completed the repast. After it was over, they carefully burned all the wrapping paper and Art blazed a tree and printed on the fresh wood, "Farewell Camp," and the date. Then under it they all wrote their names.
It was less than two miles from this point out to the railroad and for the first time in many days they were walking on almost level ground. Before long, the woods opened, and they came out on the meadows of Randolph. Across a field in front of them lay the railroad track and the tiny station. They dropped packs on the platform and turned to look at the mountains. Only the north peaks were visible—Madison, Adams and Jefferson—three pyramids against the sky.
"Golly, how funny it feels to be down on the level again!" said Peanut.
"And how far away they look! Think, we were up there only this morning!" said Frank.
