“What would you do, Bumpus,” said Step Hen, after a while, “if you couldn’t find a creek to wade in, with the fire all around you?”

“Well, d’ye know, I was just athinkin’ about that same thing,” replied the fat scout, who had thrown a blanket around him, and not bothered dressing; and as he sat there on a log he looked somewhat like a lazy Indian.

“I hope you came to some conclusion,” observed Giraffe; “because, if we happen to run across a conflagration to-morrow, when we’re out hunting, it’ll be some comfort to me to know, when I’m spinning along, that you’re snug and safe behind, and not being devoured by the flames.”

“Well, the only thing I could think of,” Bumpus went on, soberly; “seeing that a feller can’t sprout wings right away when he needs the same; nor hatch up an aeroplane to carry him out of the danger zone the only thing for me to do would be to hunt around for a woodchuck’s hole, and push in, feet first.”

There was a laugh at that remark, which seemed to surprise Bumpus, for he looked with elevated eyebrows at each of the others in turn.

“You seem to think I’m joking,” he remarked, as if offended by the levity.

“Well,” continued Giraffe, “in the first place you’d possibly find a heap of trouble discovering a woodchuck’s hole in these Maine woods, especially when you were in a big hurry; and then again, fancy the kind of woodchuck that had a hole of a size to accommodate you, Bumpus Hawtree!”

The fat boy sighed.

“That’s what I get all along the line,” he declared. “There ain’t no place in all this world for a feller that’s nearly as round as he is tall. I tell you I’m goin’ to find some way of getting rid of all this superabundance of flesh, if I have to walk it off by taking tremendous tramps. Some people tell me it c’n be done by going hungry a week or two at a time; but what’s the use of living if you can’t eat, that’s what? So I’m in a peck of trouble. Won’t somebody tell me what to do?”

Of course, with such an open invitation, they hastened to accomodate him; and if poor Bumpus tried even a part of the numerous joking plans offered for his consideration, he would soon have no need for either food or energy, since they would, as he declared, be “putting his wooden overcoat on him.”

Finally, however, the boys began to slip back once more into the tents, all but Giraffe, who was to finish the night with Jim; although there was hardly another hour now before daylight.

“Just suits me, boys!” declared the tall scout, as he prepared to sit out his turn as sentry; “you see, I can be thinking over that knotty problem I’ve just got to figure out before we leave this part of the country. And I’ve an idea that I’m getting mighty warm on that proposition now. Would sure had it dead to rights, only for clumsy Bumpus tumbling over me.”

But no one paid much attention to what Giraffe was saying; they had by now grown so accustomed to hearing him always promising great things by “to-morrow” that it “went in one ear, and came out of the other,” Davy Jones said.

When the morning came, the camp became a scene of activity. While some of the party were busily engaged cooking a good breakfast and it needed a lot to satisfy the healthy appetites of six growing boys, not to mention two husky guides, others were examining the tracks that had been found after the fire.

And it was the universal opinion that two prowlers had indeed started the fire with the idea that the inmates of the camp, rushing out to fight its spread, might get so far away that it would leave the way open for the thieves to make a sweep of any valuables left unguarded in that exciting hour.

Bumpus and Giraffe were making all their preparations looking to their “sallying forth,” as the latter termed it, “like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza of old, determined to do wonderful things.” Thad saw that they felt as if they knew it all; and he realized that in such a case advice was not desired, so he said nothing about what they ought to take. If they forgot anything, they must do without, and next time think again.

Presently the two waved their hands merrily to their chums, and started forth. Bumpus looked like a well-laden, led animal as he trotted along at the heels of the tall scout, who was to do the piloting of the expedition.

“Don’t keep supper for us if we’re late,” airily called back Bumpus. “We may get further away than we can manage in one day, and have to camp alone, like Thad and Step Hen did. And if some of them old wolves pay us a visit, they’ll wish they hadn’t. Giraffe is toting his old heavy weight rifle; and here I am with my new double-barreled gun, and fifty shells. Ketch me gettin’ caught like Step Hen did, with a few charges for my trusty weapon. Good-bye, fellers! See you later!”

“Good-bye, and good luck!” called out Davy Jones, waving his cap three times to represent his idea as to the right kind of a send-off.

The hunters got along very well for several miles, though Giraffe was forever forging protests from Bumpus.

“What d’ye take me for, Giraffe?” he would exclaim, as he caught up with the waiting leader, and wiped the perspiration from his brow, despite the fact that the day was pretty cold. “You know I ain’t built on the same lines as you; and in a case of this kind, the one that c’n go faster just has to accommodate himself to the pace of the slow one. You’re the hare, and I’m like the poor old tortoise; but please remember that the turtle came in winner after all in the race. Not always to the swift, you know, does the race go. I may beat you out in the long run, with the endurance test. If I’ve got anything at all, it’s grit.”

“Yes, you will,” sneered Giraffe; but after the third stop he did moderate his speed considerably; perhaps he was beginning to get a little tired himself, and did not feel unwilling to draw in a peg or two.

At noon they ate a cold lunch, for they had come upon certain tracks that told Giraffe there had been an animal of some kind there he wished he knew how to tell what species it belonged to, and just how long ago the tracks had been made.

“And mark me, Bumpus,” he said impressively, “I’m going to learn all those kind of things right away, as soon as I can take my mind off this pesky fire puzzle. I c’n see how handy it is to be able to read signs when you’re off huntin’. Why, when we start to follerin’ these here tracks, after we’ve eaten our grub, how on earth do we know whether they were made a week ago; or if some cow broke loose from a backwoods home up here, and wandered this way. A nice pair of chumps we’d be, wouldn’t we, if we went and shot up a pet cow, and had to pay damages? I reckon the boys’d never got over the joke.”

“That’s just what I was thinking myself, Giraffe,” agreed the other, as he sat down beside the tall scout on a fallen tree, and took out the lunch from his haversack, for he had carried it all morning, and Giraffe had let him, too; “if we’re going in for this scouting business, we ought to swallow the whole business. Now, as for learning things connected with the woods, where could you find any fellers better qualified to put us straight than we’ve got in Thad and Allan? What one don’t know, the other sure does. I’m bound to learn the game. Owning this dandy gun has given me a new idea. I used to say ’oh! what’s the use of bothering, when you’ve got somebody else to do your thinking for you?’ But now I begin to see that you can’t always depend on others. Right here is a case in point.”

As their minds ran about in the same channel the two boys managed to get along splendidly. Their little differences of the past were, for the time being at least, quite forgotten; and they seemed drawn toward each other as two comrades should be.

But both began to complain because thus far neither of them had had occasion to make use of their gun. If this was a game country, why was it two such industrious hunters did not get a crack at something, whether a deer, a moose, or even a fox anything would have been welcome as a change from the monotony.

Perhaps Giraffe would have been surprised if told that he and the puffing Bumpus made quite too much noise to prevent any wary and timid deer from staying within a quarter of a mile of them. And also that often they were doing their hunting “down the wind,” so that their scent at such times was carried to the nostrils of the suspicious game long before the hunters came in sight.

Finally they came across some partridges, and Bumpus managed to bag a couple with two shots from his new gun. He was greatly elated by the success attending his efforts, even though Giraffe did mention something about the birds insisting on remaining on the branch of that tree so long that they must either have been frozen there, or else wanted to commit suicide.

“Well, they came to the right place, then,” said Bumpus, sturdily, as he crammed new shells in his gun; “I’m the feller to help every partridge and deer pass over the divide, that feels like going. Bring on your game; now we’re going some!”

But as the afternoon began to wane they had a shot at nothing else, though once Giraffe became excited, and declared he had caught a glimpse of a deer making off in the distance.

“Now, ain’t it a shame,” he went on to say, “how that deer just knew we were coming? Seems like somebody went ahead with a trumpet, and announced that two hunters were on the trail. After that they all hike out. But seems to me it’s getting some cold right now, Bumpus. My fingers begin to tingle.”

“Told you to wear the old mitts Step Hen offered you, but you sneered at the idea. I’m feeling pretty cold myself, considerin’ that I’m on the move all the time. Say, where are we anyhow, and how far from the camp?”

Giraffe looked blankly at Bumpus.

“Here’s the compass, and we c’n see which way is north, all right. Then east is off that way on the right, south around yonder, and west here. But where in the dickens is that camp, south, north or east? Honest, Bumpus, I don’t know!”

“No more do I, Giraffe,” replied the other. “And d’ye know, this makes me think of that Injun that got lost, and was found, half starved, by some white men; but he was too proud to admit his little shortcoming; so when they asked him if he hadn’t kinder managed to get twisted in his bearings, he slaps his breast with his hand, take a pose like this, and says he: ‘Injun not lost; wigwam lost; Injun here!’ And we’re like that Injun, Giraffe; oh! no, we’re not lost one little bit, because we know we’re here. But I just can’t amble on any longer. Suppose we stop and camp. These partridges will taste prime. Yum! yum, can’t get at ’em too soon to please me. Get busy, and light a fire, Giraffe; that’s your part of the contract always.”

“I sure will, if you give me a few matches, Bumpus,” replied the other, wearily dropping his heavy rifle, that began to feel like a ton of lead.

“Matches! Why, you’re the fire-maker; and I thought you’d take care of that part of the business!” exclaimed Bumpus, looking a little alarmed.

“Why, what a silly you can be, Bumpus; don’t you know I promised Thad never to carry a single match around with me? And now, look what a fix we’re in, lost in the Maine woods, with night coming on, and gettin’ colder every minute; and not a single match to start a fire with. I see our finish all right. When they find us some days from now, we’ll be just frozen stiff, that’s what!”

The two tenderfeet looked at each other, but there was no smile on either face now; for affairs had assumed too serious a phase to admit of merriment.