We played nine games of checkers by the light of our smoky lantern . Our enjoyment of the game was heightened by the fact that it had ceased raining . Nevertheless , when morning came the trail was so drenched that it was impossible to travel on it . `` We must wait till noon , '' said Kate . `` That trail wo n't be dry enough to travel on for a week , '' I said disconsolately . `` My dear ; the chinook is blowing up , '' said Kate . `` You do n't know how quickly a trail dries in a chinook . It 's like magic . '' I did not believe a chinook or anything else could dry up that trail by noon sufficiently for us to travel on . But it did . As Kate said , it seemed like magic . By one o'clock we were on our way again , the chinook blowing merrily against our faces . It was a wind that blew straight from the heart of the wilderness and had in it all the potent lure of the wild . The yellow prairie laughed and glistened in the sun . We made twenty-five miles that afternoon and , as we were again fortunate enough to find a bluff of dead poplar near which to camp , we built a royal camp-fire which sent its flaming light far and wide over the dark prairie . We were in jubilant spirits . If the next day were fine and nothing dreadful happened to us , we would reach Bothwell before night . But our ill luck was not yet at an end . The next morning was beautiful . The sun shone warm and bright ; the chinook blew balmily and alluringly ; the trail stretched before us dry and level .
But we sat moodily before our tent , not even having sufficient heart to play XXXXX .
Kate afternoon camp-fire checkers chinook morning night noon o'clock week