The summer came on apace. Never had George seen anything more beautiful than the outburst of tree and leaf and flower among these lonely peaks. The out-door life agreed with him perfectly, as it did with William Fairfax. They worked hard all the week, always leaving camp before sunrise, and generally not returning until after sunset. Lance always had a good fire and a capital supper waiting for them. He fashioned rude but comfortable seats and tables out of logs, and his impromptu out-door kitchen was a model of neatness and order. He was an accomplished laundress, but, after instructing Billy in the art of washing and drying clothes, turned that branch of their housekeeping over to this young person, who worked steadily, if unwillingly. On rainy days the boys remained in their tent, with two large tarpaulins thrown over it to keep out the water. George then wrote in his journal and read one of his precious books, William reading the other. On Sundays they took turns in the morning, after the work of the camp was over, in reading the service of the Church of England to a congregation composed of Lance, Billy, and Rattler--the two latter generally going to sleep in the first five minutes.