Psalm 147:4–5, 8He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names.
Great is our Lord, and of great power: his understanding is infinite.
Who covereth the heaven with clouds, who prepareth rain for the earth, who maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.
Psalm 90:2Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.
Psalm 8:3–5When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;
What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.
Psalm 19:1 The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.
Colossians 1:16 For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him.
Psalm 95:4–6In his hand are the deep places of the earth: the strength of the hills is his also.
The sea is his, and he made it: and his hands formed the dry land.
O come, let us worship and bow down: let us kneel before the LORDour maker.
Each time she read the words, she felt like her heart was cracking. As if the hard shell around it—which she hadn’t even realized was there—was slowly crumbling.
Though she was more than a little tired after trekking into the mountains, she felt lighter. And could even breathe better.
The men’s voices around the horses brought her attention back to her surroundings.
Mr. Grinnell had hired a guide, as well as a couple of men to handle the set up and break down of camp and the cooking. Which took a lot of worry off her shoulders. However, being in the saddle for nearly fourteen hours...
She could scarcely walk!
Once she was able to stretch and move around a bit, she felt better, although her backside would be sore tomorrow. Thankfully, Marvella sent them with a great deal of foodthat needed only to be warmed over a fire. Eleanor had been delighted to find that those stocks included some of the delicious chocolate cake they’d had the night before.
After enjoying a thick slice of roast beef between two pieces of bread, she took her piece of cake and settled down by the fire. She glanced to where her father sat across from her on a stool. It was getting harder for him to sit on the ground like the rest of them. She stared into the fire. Was he hurting? Was this trip too much for him? She wanted to ask but didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friend.
George Grinnell was the same age as Father, but somehow, he seemed younger. Her father had been changing over the last year or two. He was slowing down. More than she’d allowed herself to consider.
Two years ago, when he’d been invited to make a trip to South America to explore various places along the Amazon River, he had declined. She hadn’t questioned him about it because his schedule had been so tight, but now...
Had he refused because of ill health?
She ate another bite of cake, though now it tasted like sawdust. What if Father had a disease of some sort? Something terminal like Mother had had. What would she do if she lost him?
All of a sudden, her stomach didn’t want any more cake.
Besides his suggestion they consider settling down, he had talked about selling family items that he’d put in storage. Paintings and ancient rugs he’d acquired over the years, as well as other bric-a-brac. He’d even arranged for some of his pieces to be given to various museums. Were all of these clues of what was to come? Had she not picked up on the fact?
She snuck another glance at him. He seemed all right, aside from being tired. He was eating well and not complaining about any particular troubles. Not that he necessarily would. He wouldn’t do anything to compromise the work he’d set out to do.
The chill of the night was upon them and even with her layers of clothing, a shiver raced up her spine. Time to retire to her Norwegian sleeping bag.
Over the years, they’d been on too many of these types of adventures not to know what was needed to stay warm and dry. Father had been dedicated to finding a bedroll or sleeping bag that would afford them the very best protection from cold and damp.
On a trip to Norway four years ago, he’d found a man who was able to skillfully produce a down-filled bag with a rubberized bottom. It was perfect for placing on the ground and even better when used in a tent. Not long after her father had worked with the man to create the bags, Eleanor saw an advertisement for them in one of the outdoor adventure magazines. The ad even mentioned that the bags had been used by the famous conservationist Stewart Briggs, although it made no mention that it was his design.
“Well, I believe it would do us all good to turn in early.” Grinnell stood and stretched.
