th Mr. Arnold's
practical experience to help her, she gave her orders and embarked (not
without a few tremors) upon the proceeding.

"If the mountain air makes you so hungry you eat up two days' provisions
in one, it means you'll have to fast on the third day," she assured the
girls. "I'm sending up what I hope will be sufficient. It's like
victualling a regiment. Of course we shan't go at all if it's wet."

Mr. Arnold, who very kindly volunteered to see that the camp was
properly set up and in thorough working order before the school took
possession, superintended the erection of the tents and reported that
all was in apple-pie condition and only waiting for its battalion. On
2nd June, therefore, a very jolly procession started off from The
Woodlands. In navy skirts and sports coats, tricolor ties, straw hats,
and decorated with numerous badges and small flags, the girls felt like
a regiment of female Territorials. Each carried her kit on her back in a
home-made knapsack containing her few personal necessities, and knife,
spoon, fork, and enamelled tin mug. A band of tin whistles and mouth
organs led the way, playing a valiant attempt at "Caller Herrin'". The
teachers also were prepared for business. Miss Teddington, who had done
climbs in Switzerland, came in orthodox costume with nailed boots and a
jaunty Tyrolean hat with a piece of edelweiss stuck in the front. Miss
Lodge wore a full-length leather coat and felt hat in which she looked
ready to defy a waterspout or a tornado. Miss Moseley, who owned to an
ever-present terror of bulls, grasped an iron-spiked walking-stick, and
Miss Davis had a First Aid wallet slung across her back. In the girls'
opinion Miss Bowes shirked abominably. Instead of venturing on the
six-mile walk she had caught the morning train to Capelcefn, and was
going to hire a car at the Royal Hotel and drive up to the lake with the
provisions. Mrs. Arnold, who, with her husband, had taken rooms at the
farm for a few days, was already on the spot, and would be ready to
receive the travellers when they arrived.

On the whole it was a glorious morning, though a few ill-omened clouds
lingered like a night-cap round Penllwyd. Larks were singing, cuckoos
calling, bluebells made the woods seem a reflection of the sky, and the
gorse was ablaze on the common. The walk was collar-work at first, up,
up, up, climbing a steep track between loose-built, fern-covered walls,
taking a short cut over the slope t