I had n't felt very safe with Peter Crow , but I felt still more unsafe without him . `` Safe ! Of course , it 's safe -- perfectly safe . I know the trail , and we 'll just have to drive around the wet places . It would have been easier with Peter , and we 'd have had less work to do , but we 'll get along well enough without him . I do n't think I 'd have bothered with him at all , only I wanted to set Mother 's mind at rest . She 'll never know he is n't with us till the trip is over , so that is all right . We 're going to have a glorious day . But , oh , for our lost ham ! ` The Ham That Was Never Eaten . ' There 's a subject for a poem , Phil . You write one when we get back to civilization . Methinks I can sniff the savoury odour of that lost ham on all the prairie breezes . '' `` Of all sad words of tongue or pen , The saddest are these -- it might have been , '' I quoted , beginning to wash the dishes . `` Saw ye my wee ham , saw ye my ain ham , Saw ye my pork ham down on yon lea ? Crossed it the prairie last night in the darkness Borne by an old and unprincipled Cree ? '' sang Kate , loosening the tent ropes . Altogether , we got a great deal more fun out of that ham than if we had eaten it . As Kate had predicted , the day was glorious . The mists rolled away and the sun shone brightly .
We drove all XXXXX without stopping , save for dinner -- when the lost ham figured largely in our conversation -- of course .
Cree Kate Methinks Mother Peter Phil day lea odour right