I must bear my burden alone until I could tell Aunt Deel.

She would know what to do.

Mr.Wright came along and found me sitting in deep dejection on a bed of vivid, green moss by an old stump at the trail-side.
"What ye doing here ?" he asked in surprise.
"Nothing," I answered gravely.
The Comptroller must have observed the sorrow in my face, for he asked: "What's the matter ?" "Nothing," I lied, and then my conscience caught up with my tongue and I added: "It's a secret." Fearing that my uncle would disgrace himself in the hearing of Mr.
Wright, I said something--I do not remember what, save that it related to the weather--in a loud voice by way of warning.
They noticed the downcast look of me when we entered camp.
"Why, Bub, you look tired," said Uncle Peabody as he gave me that familiar hug of his.
I did not greet him with the cheerful warmth which had characterized our meetings, and seeing the disappointment in his look I kissed him rather flippantly.
"Lay down on this old sheep skin and take a nap," said he.

"It's warm in here." He spread the sheep skin on the balsam boughs back under the lean-to and I lay down upon it and felt the glow of the fire and heard the talk of the men but gave no heed to it.

I turned my face away from them and lay as if asleep, but with a mind suddenly estranged and very busy.
Now I know what I knew not then, that my soul was breaking camp on the edge of the world and getting ready to move over the line.