CHAPTER NINE
BIG NICK PAYS HIS COMPLIMENTS
The camp was pitched that night at the foot of Mt. Jim, the leanto being put up as before.When Stanley was informed that Kennebago lake was eighteen hundred feet above sea level and the ponds now about them were more than two thousand feet he began to understand why the nights were cold and a fire was necessary.
Abner’s preliminary preparations for cruising the east cant of the mountain, or the Dead river watershed, puzzled while interesting Stanley. With the early morning sun the old man produced somewhere from his big knapsack a pair of powerful field glasses and spent some minutes in studying the dark heights above him.
Fascinated, yet diffident, Stanley stood at his elbow, his lips repeatedly framing unspoken questions.
At last Abner lowered his glasses and demanded, “Wal, why don’t ye do it?”
“Do what?” stammered Stanley.
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