They had a most bountiful spread that evening. Steve and Toby insisted on taking charge, and getting up the meal. Besides the fish, which by the way were most delightfully browned in the pan, and proved a great hit with the three boys, there was boiled rice, baked potatoes, warmed-up corned beef (from the tin), and finally as dessert sliced peaches, the California variety; besides the customary coffee, without which a meal in camp would seem decidedly poor.

All of them fairly “stuffed” after the manner of vigorous boys with not a care in the wide world, and plenty more food where that came from. After supper was over they had to lie around and take things easy for a while, inventing all manner of excuses for so doing, when in reality not one of them felt capable of moving.

“I must say the bass up the river seem to taste a whole lot better than down our way,” remarked Toby, reflectively. “Sometimes when I’ve fetched a string home with me, and the cook prepared them for the table they had what seemed like a muddy flavor. It may have been because the river ran high just then, and this affected the fish more or less.”

45“Don’t you believe it,” snapped Steve, philosophically. “The difference was in the surroundings, and the kind of appetite you had. No matter if a fellow does think he’s hungry at home, when he sits down to a white tablecloth, and silver, and cut-glass, and all that sort of stuff it sort of dulls the edge of his appetite. Then again he has to just wait his turn to be served, and mustn’t forget his table manners if he knows what’s good for him. But say, up in the woods he can just revert back to the habits of primeval man from whose loins he sprang, and his appetite compares to that of the wolf. Oh! things do taste altogether different, somehow or other; and meals seem an awful long time apart.”

“What’s on your mind, Toby?” asked Jack, a short time afterwards, when he noticed the other looking pensive, as though his thoughts might be busy.

“Oh! I was only wondering whether we’d hear that queer old booming sound again tonight, that’s all, Jack; and mebbe, too, I was trying to figure out just how he manages to make it.”

Jack smiled.

“Everything comes to him who waits, Toby,” he said, simply; “and so don’t worry yourself about things yet awhile. Let me shoulder the burden; if it gets too heavy a load for one fellow to carry be sure I’ll call on you two for help.”

Then he deftly guided the conversation into other channels. There was plenty to talk about, 46 for these were observing lads, who kept their eyes open no matter where they might be; and every little while Toby would remember something he had noticed as he made his way to or from the river, that he must describe in order to arouse Jack’s interest, and cause him to decide on a trip across country soon.

They sat up fairly late, for there was a peculiar fascination about the crackling campfire that held them spellbound. They clasped their hands about their knees, and stared into the glowing heart of the fire, as though capable of seeing all manner of fantastic figures dancing there like madcap sprites. It was the old, old story that never dies out, the spirit of devotion that mankind pays to the element which he had compelled to serve him so well in a thousand different ways, but principally to cook his food, and warm his chilled body.

Finally Toby admitted that his eyes were closing in spite of himself, and Steve on hearing that frank confession commenced to yawn at a terrific rate; so Jack said for one he meant to creep between his blankets and get some sleep.

All seemed well as they retired within the tent where, by the light of the lantern, they could finish their disrobing, and don their warm flannel winter pajamas, which, at Jack’s suggestion, they had fetched along with them, because he knew how chilly the nights become in camp even during the “good old summer-time.”

After all Toby had his fears for nothing, because 47 he was not aroused by any mysterious explosion. If anything of the sort happened he certainly failed to hear it, and slept through the night.

When morning arrived they were on the job again, as Steve termed it; that is, taking their waking-up exercises in front of the tent by doing a number of gymnastic feats, and then after dressing proceeding with breakfast.

“So far we’ve been favored with good weather,” remarked Steve, as they sat on the logs, and enjoyed the meal thus prepared. “Not a drop of rain, and while fairly hot nothing unseasonable, to make us sizzle along toward three in the afternoon. But seems to me there’s a change due before long. I don’t quite like the looks of the sun this morning; and it came up glowing red in the bargain.”

“So it did, Steve,” assented Toby, “and they say that’s a good sign of stormy weather. Well, all we can do is take things as they come, the bad with the good. When fellows camp out for two weeks they ought to go prepared for wet as well as dry weather. I’ve fetched along my rain-coat, and the rubber cap that keeps your neck dry in the toughest of a downpour; and rubber boots, so why should I worry?”

“Since you’re prepared to be a regular waterdog, Toby,” said Steve, “we’ll look to you to do all the stray jobs when it rains. Jack and myself not being so well prepared can stick to the tent and keep dry.”

48“Perhaps you’re counting your chickens before they’re hatched,” chuckled Jack, apparently much amused by this conversation on the part of his chums; “for there’s no certainty that it means to rain today. That sign business used to make a great hit with people before they began to reason things out; but it as often misses making connections as it does strike the truth.”

“Guess it must be a whole lot like the almanac people,” laughed Toby. “You know they just guess at probabilities when setting down what the weather is going to be six months ahead. I remember reading a story about one of the most famous of almanac makers, I forget what his name was, but let it go as Spilkins. He was walking out in the country one fine morning when there wasn’t a sign of a cloud in the sky. A farmer working in a field called out to him that he’d better keep an eye above, for like as not there’d be rain before the day was done. Spilkins only laughed at him, and went on; but sure enough, an hour later it clouded over like fun, and down came the rain, so that he had to seek shelter in a friendly barn.

“Now, as an almanac man, he thought it worth while to go back and interview that hayseed, and find out just how he could tell there was rain coming when not a sign was visible. I guess Spilkins thought he might pick up a valuable pointer that he could make use of in prognosticating the weather ahead.

49“The man was working again in his field, where the shower had made things look fresh and green. So Mr. Spilkins called him over to the fence, and after passing a few pleasant remarks, bluntly asked him how he could scent rain when not a small cloud was in the sky. The farmer grinned, and this is what he told him:

“‘Why, you see, Mister, we all of us take Spilkins’ Reliable Family Almanac around this region, and we goes by it regular like. When he sez it’s going to rain we calculate we’ll have a fine day for haying; and when he speaks of fair weather, why we just naturally git out our rain-coats, and lay for having a spell in the woodshed. And I happened to notice this same mornin’ that he predicted a fine day, so I jest knowed it’d sartin sure rain; and, sir, it did!’”

Both the others laughed at the story, which neither of them had heard before, old though it was.

“That’s just about the haphazard way almanacs are built up,” observed Jack. “Of course in a few instances they do hit the truth; so could any of us if we laid out a programme for a year ahead. It’s natural to expect hot weather along about this time of the summer; and such a spell is always followed by a cooler period. So we’ll take our ducking when it comes, and not bother our heads too much ahead of that time.”

While sitting there they mapped out their intended plans for the day. Jack figured on starting 50 out a little later, and securing some more photographs. Steve, not wanting to spend another day in camp, asked permission to accompany him.

“Certainly you can come along, Steve,” he was told; “if you think your heel is equal to the long jaunt, because I may cover quite a good many miles before coming back to camp again. How about that? I wouldn’t like you to start limping, and be in misery for hours.”

“Oh! the old thing seems to be all right this morning, Jack,” Steve assured him. “That salve was sure a magic one, let me tell you, and took all the pain out of the rubbed place. I’ve found a way to prevent it ever hurting again; and right now I’d be equal to a twenty-mile tramp if necessary.”

“How about you, Toby, will you mind acting as camp guardian for today? Tomorrow one of us might want to go over to the river with you, and have a try at the bass; but on the whole, I think it would be wise to keep watch over our things.”

Jack said this seriously, so they knew he was not joking.

“Why, do you really think that man, or any one else, for that matter, would actually steal things from us?” demanded Steve, frowning as he spoke, and perhaps unconsciously clenching his fists pugnaciously.

“I’m only guessing, remember,” Jack informed him. “It might be a raid on our camp would be 51 made during our absence. Don’t you see, if our being up here annoyed certain people, the quickest way they could get rid of us would be to steal all our eatables while we were away from camp. We couldn’t stick it out and go hungry, could we? Well, on that account then we’d better keep a watch.”

“Jack, you’re right!” snapped Toby, while Steve looked even more aroused than ever at the bare possibility of such a calamity overtaking them; for Steve, as we happen to know, was a good eater, and nothing could appall him more than the prospect of all those splendid things they had brought along with them being mysteriously carried off by unknown vandals.

“Toby, just you keep that shotgun handy, and defend our grub with the last drop of blood in your veins,” he went on to say. “Now, I’ll step out and see if Moses has finished the oats I gave him before we had our breakfast. While about it I’ll lead him over for a drink at Turtle Creek below the spot where we get our supply of clear water.”

“Thanks for your trouble, Steve; you’ll save me doing it later,” spoke up Toby, graciously. “When you fellows are off I’ll wrestle with the dishes and cooking outfit. After that I’ve got several things I want to fix about my fishing tackle–some snells to tie fresh after heating them in boiling water; and hooks that need filing about the points, as they seem a bit dull. Then there’s 52 a guide on my pole–I mean my rod, that needs winding with red silk thread. Oh! I’ll find plenty to keep me busy I reckon.”

Ten minutes afterward Steve came hurrying back with a look of concern on his face that caused both Jack and Toby to jump to the conclusion that he had made some sort of important discovery.

“It isn’t Moses that’s broken away and given us the slip, I hope?” gasped Toby, and then adding: “no, because I see him over there where we tied him out so he could eat his fill of green grass. What’s happened, Steve; you look like you’ve met up with a ghost?”

“We had a visitor last night, just as sure as anything, boys,” said Steve, solemnly; “and we can thank our lucky stars he didn’t run off with our stuff in the bargain!”