* * * * * When we arose and lifted the flap of the tent we saw a peculiar sight . The little elevation on which we had pitched our camp seemed to be an island in a vast sea of white mist , dotted here and there with other islands . On every hand to the far horizon stretched that strange , phantasmal ocean , and a hazy sun looked over the shifting billows . I had never seen a western mist before and I thought it extremely beautiful ; but Kate , to whom it was no novelty , was more cumbered with breakfast cares . `` I 'm ravenous , '' she said , as she bustled about among our stores . `` Camping out always does give one such an appetite . Are n't you hungry , Phil ? '' `` Comfortably so , '' I admitted . `` But where are our ponies ? And where is Peter Crow ? '' `` Probably the ponies have strayed away looking for pea vines . They love and adore pea vines , '' said Kate , stirring up the fire from under its blanket of grey ashes . `` And Peter Crow has gone to look for them , good old fellow . When you do get a conscientious Indian there is no better guide in the world , but they are rare . Now , Philippa-girl , just pry out the sergeant 's ham and shave a few slices off it for our breakfast . Some savoury fried ham always goes well on the prairie . '' I went for the ham but could not find it . A thorough search among our effects revealed it not . `` Kate , I ca n't find the ham , '' I called out . `` It must have fallen out somewhere on the trail . ''
Kate ceased wrestling with the XXXXX and came to help in the search for the missing delicacy .
Crow Indian Kate Phil Philippa-girl breakfast fellow fire flap pea