“All ready!” sang out Thad.

Some of them were already settled in the canoes; but Giraffe still remained, kneeling on the shore.

“Come, we’ve waited long enough for you, old Slow-poke!” called out Bumpus, who was the partner of the tall scout in the canoe paddled by Eli.

Very slowly did Giraffe approach, his eyes turned beseechingly on Thad.

“Say, that’s the way it always goes,” he declared. “I was just getting on to it the best ever, and if I only had half an hour more, I’d made my fire as sure as I’m Conrad Stedman. I’ve got her all figgered out; and by noon I’ll be twisted in my mind again, and the whole combination lost.”

But Thad only shook his head.

“Couldn’t think of it, Number Six,” he declared. “It was one part of the agreement made with you that on no occasion were you to delay the balance of the party. All ready; Bumpus, give the signal.”

Bumpus was a natural musician. He could play “any old instrument,” and extract very good music from banjo, guitar, violin, or even an accordion; he also had a fine voice that often aroused the enthusiastic acclaim of his comrades while sitting around the fire of evenings.

Of course, then, he had been made the bugler of the troop as soon as the organization was commenced. It had not been deemed just the right thing for him to fetch his musical instrument along while the Silver Fox Patrol chanced to be in the Maine woods on a hunt; but then that was no bar to Bumpus, who could put his hands to his mouth, and give a splendid imitation of the reveille, assembly, taps, or any other military call.

So Giraffe had to climb into Eli’s canoe, looking very much discouraged. Really, it did seem as though an evil spirit took especial delight in baffling him, just when he seemed in a fair way to reach the goal of his present ambition. As he had once before complained, he had even had his tinder soaked by a sudden shower, and just at the critical moment when he felt sure it was about to burst into a successful blaze.

But one thing was sure, these successive defeats only served to make him shut his teeth harder together, and resolve that nothing would ever prevent him from getting that fire, if it took him a year. He might be beaten once, twice, or fifty times; but there would come a day to the patient plodder when the door of opportunity would open for him. And surely success would stand for a great deal more if he had to work like this for it, than if easily attained.

Before noon came they had arrived at the place where the stream ran into the Lower Lake of the Eagle Chain; and when they stopped for lunch, it was upon the shore of this beautiful sheet of water.

Thad had been secretly keeping an eye on Jim. He knew that the guide must feel more or less anxiety, despite his brave outward showing. And when Jim thought no one was observing he would look out of the tail of his eye at every clump of bushes that seemed any way suspicious, as long as they were upon the river.

And hence, it was doubtless a positive relief when they started out on the broader water of the lake; for after that he would only have to watch one shore.

About one o’clock they again started. The air continued cold, but bracing, and this made paddling a pleasure, up to a certain point.

All of the scouts took a hand at it, even Bumpus, and received more or less valuable instruction from the two guides, as to how the paddle should be worked in order to have as little “lost motion” as possible; and at the same time secure the greatest amount of benefit. But when after half an hour of labor, they found their muscles beginning to tire from the unaccustomed motion, the boys considered themselves lucky to be able to turn the paddles over once more to the canoe men, who were used to the job, and could keep it up steadily all day, if need be.

When they drew near the outlet where the waters of the Lower Lake flowed into Lake Winthrop, Thad, happening to look back, managed to discover a canoe skirting the shore some miles distant. From the actions of those in it, they seemed desirous of remaining unnoticed; for they took advantage of every headland that jutted out; and when they had to make across the open, it was done with all possible speed.

Thad did not need to be told who was in that craft. And glancing toward Jim, he understood that the Maine guide had doubtless been aware of the pursuing canoe for some time; because he nodded at the scoutmaster when he caught his eye.

“It’s him, is it, Jim?” called out Thad; for the canoes were some thirty feet apart at the time.

“Yep,” came the answer, accompanied by an affirmative nod of Jim’s head.

“You know him, even at that distance, then?” continued the patrol leader.

“He’s workin’ the paddle right now,” replied the other. “Yuh cain’t mistake his way o’ swingin’ ther spruce blade. Olé Cale hain’t gut his ekal at thet in all the State o’ Maine.”

It was plain to be seen, then, that the giant poacher was on the trail of his detested son-in-law, possibly bent on carrying out his terrible threat; though Thad hoped such might not prove to be the case.

He knew that often these rough men of the woods could appreciate true bravery; and that there might be a chance, however slight, that Old Cale was lost in admiration for the recklessnes that could induce Jim to brave his wrath. What if he had been consumed by a sudden deep curiosity to know what really caused the other to take the risk and come up here? Could he suspect that Little Lina had sent a message to him?

All these things gave Thad occasion for considerable thinking. At the same time he did not mean to lose sight of the main reason for their having come so far from their homes, in order to get some hunting, and camping experience, that would prove valuable to his fellow scouts, anxious to learn all that they could at first hands, of wood-craft.

“I’m glad we were as particular as we were about putting out the very last spark of fire this morning,” Thad remarked, as the canoes moved along close to one another.

“Why?” demanded Giraffe, a little suspiciously; for every time that magical word was used he chose to think all eyes must be turned in his direction; just as though he should be placed in the same class with fire.

“Oh! because the wind came up like great guns shortly after we left camp,” Thad went on, always ready to point a lesson to those under him; “and from the river, too. Now, if we’d left any fire there, the chances are it would have been picked up, and thrown into the woods. As there was a lot of dry stuff around, you can see how easy a fire starts up here. And when it once gets going, I reckon it can burn some, eh, Allan?”

“If you ever have the good or bad luck to run across a forest afire, while we’re up in this section, you’ll see a sight that none of you’ll soon forget,” and he had to cast a meaning glance as he spoke in the direction of the fire worshipper.

But Giraffe only smiled in a satisfied way.

“Talk all you want,” he remarked; “but I think I’ve got that business down fine, now; and to-night, to-night I’m just bound to prove to Bumpus here that the cream is on him. I knew I’d get it sometime.”

“Well, don’t crow till you’re out of the woods,” remarked Bumpus, from the bow end of the canoe. “I’m willing to be convinced; and it’ll be worth all it costs me just to see you work that puzzle out.”

“But you just know I c’n do it, don’t you?” persisted Giraffe.

“Won’t say,” answered the fat boy, obstinately.

“Well, you might as well be counting up your spare cash, because I’m bound to show you at the first chance. It just can’t slip away from me much longer; and I reckon I’ve got it clinched this time,” and after that Giraffe would not talk, but seemed to be muttering to himself from time to time, as though he might be repeating a certain formula that he believed to be the winning combination.

They were not trying to make fast time now, because there was really no necessity for doing so. Having arrived on the chain of lakes that, with the St. Johns river, almost makes a great island of the northern portion of Maine, they were bent on enjoying themselves. That meant going into camp at some point where the guides were agreed they might have the best hunting; and from that time on taking toll of the woods’ folks as their larder required, wasting nothing, and refraining from hunting when food was not needed.

They were true scouts, and believed in following the uplifting principles that govern the actions of the better class of sportsmen. As Step Hen so often declared, they did not want to be called “game hogs,” a term often used to describe the man who flings his catch of bass or trout up on the shore to die, no matter if he is taking ten times what he can use; or who shoots his deer in or out of season, and allows it to lie there, wasted, on the ground, food for the foxes or wolves.

“This country seems to be rather sparsely settled up here?” remarked Thad, after they had been moving along the shore of Lake Winthrop for some time, looking up a desirable camp site.

“In the summer you kin see a tent now an’ then, it bein’ sum party as wants ter enjy the fishin’, which is prime,” Eli replied; “but they ain’t many folks as keer ‘bout stickin’ out ther winters hyar. Ye’ll admit they must be sum cold, this far up, nigh the Canady border.”

“But there must be plenty of game hereabouts, I should guess,” Thad went on. “Because, in the first place it has a gamey look to me; and then again, you wouldn’t have agreed to come along with Jim here, unless you’d heard good accounts of the region around the Eagle Lakes.”

“Jest what I has, though I hain’t never be’n all over ’em myself,” returned Eli. “But Jim hyar, he was bawn an’ fetched up in this kentry; so what he doan’t know ‘baout hit hain’t wuth knowin’, I guess, sir.”

It was about the middle of the afternoon that Jim declared they had reached the point where their tents should be pitched. Thad noticed that the guide made not the least attempt at trying to hide the camp; indeed, the tents could surely be seen in any direction out on the lake.

This gave him to understand that Jim was not “taking water;” he had come here to this danger ground with the main idea of meeting his irate father-in-law face to face, be the consequences what they might, because his wife had begged him to; and there was as yet no sign of Jim turning out to be what Giraffe called a “quitter.”

Everybody soon found plenty to do. The rest had enough pity for Giraffe not to enter any complaint because he seemed to shirk his share of the ordinary labor attending the starting of the camp. They knew he had his hands full in solving what promised to be one of the greatest puzzles he had ever tackled.

And so he was allowed to go off himself, and work his little saw monotonously right along. Now it was the cord that failed to hold; again something else went back on poor Giraffe. But he kept patiently at it, grimly determined; and even the most interested of the lot, Bumpus, with whom the fire builder had laid his little wager, could not but feel a touch of admiration and sympathy when he saw how the tall scout kept at his task as the afternoon slipped away.

When supper was announced Giraffe came in smiling.

“Got it?” demanded Bumpus, eagerly.

“Well, just as good as done,” was the cautious reply. “I’ve mastered a heap of little irritating troubles; and just now the coast seems to be clear. Next time, now, and you’ll see something doing.”

“One more ribber to cross!” cooed Step Hen. “It’s always ‘next time,’ with Giraffe, you notice, fellows.”

But Giraffe was either too tired to argue, or else so confident of a speedy success that he felt he could afford to bide his time. Revenge would be very sweet, after all the chaff the fellows had poured upon his head. He would wait.

The supper tasted unusually fine that night, they all declared. Several of the scouts assisted in its preparation, wishing to show the guides just what knowledge of camp cookery they had picked up in their numerous outings. Even Bumpus superintended the heating of the “canoeist’s delight,” which turned out to be a hodge-podge, consisting of some left-over corned beef taken from a tin, some corn, and beans with several cold potatoes sliced in the same. And the hungry boys declared the only fault they could find with it was that it disappeared too soon.

But they had an abundance for all hands, even Giraffe admitting that he was satisfied when the meal was over. Then came the several delightful hours of lying around, as close to the cheery blaze as they dared, and having a “good old fashioned powwow,” as Step Hen called it.

Jim was quiet; but then he had never been a noisy fellow; and knowing what was on his mind right then, Thad felt that he had plenty of excuse for deep thought.

During a lull in the conversation later on, Bumpus sat upright, and exclaimed:

“There, did any of you hear it again; sure as you live it was the same long-drawn howl we caught on our other trip up the Penobscot region; and Sebattis, as well as all the rest, told us it was a wolf come down across the border from Canada. How about it Eli; was that one just then giving tongue?”

The old guide had not moved an inch; indeed, he seemed to be very little concerned over the strange sound; but he nodded his shaggy head, and made reply:

“Yep, thet war a Canady wolf all right; an’ as they hunt in packs thar must be more on ’em raound these diggin’s I spect.”