GUESTS OF THE FORESTS 39 



a July sun. Their bodies were tanned, their eyes shaded with dark glasses, 

 their elbows propped upon towels as they read. They had a little wire-haired 

 terrier named Susan. Every now and then Susan besought attention. The 

 man would rise and throw a stick out in the water for her to chase. His name 

 was Ralph. He was an engineer. His wife, Ann, worked in a Spokane library 

 and they were taking their vacations together. 



Ann stretched lazily and sat up. She brushed the sand off her bathing 

 suit and threw a pebble at her husband. 



"What say to taking a plunge and then making tracks for supper? I'm 

 hungry." She looked out over the lake. It lay clear and rippling. The far 

 shore hung in a blue haze with the mountains rising deeper blue beyond. 

 Voices floated up from the resort down the beach, and far out over the water 

 a motorboat droned. 



Ralph sat up. "Gee, but I'll hate to leave this place and go back to 

 work. What's the idea of working, anyway, when you can live like this?" 

 he said. 



They swam far out, then back. 



"Beat you up the bank," she called as she ran up the path to their tent. 

 Ralph laughed and picked up the things on the beach. The shadows 

 stretched out to the water but the sand still felt warm He could just see 

 the ridge of the tent between the scrub growth and firs at the top of 

 the bank. 



They ate on the rough log table. The smoke of the supper fire curled 

 lazily up through the trees. After they had washed the dishes they went 

 for a walk on the beach. The lake was quiet with early evening stillness. 

 The mountains were purple now, rising peak on peak into the blue. The 

 moon came up, painting the world with silver. 



They swam again, lazily breaking the path of the moon. When they 

 came in, Ralph built a fire of driftwood on the beach and toasted marsh- 

 mallows. Ann was sleepy. She lay wrapped in a blanket with her head on 

 Ralph's lap, watching the flames, and Susan, the dog, curled up by her 

 knees. Once in a great while a car shuttled down the camp road behind 

 them. Little waves lapped on their boat drawn up on the beach, and the 

 wood fire crackled. "It sure is nice here," he said. 



