CHAPTER III. CAMP-FARE.

  "Hold up!" called out Thad.

  Of course, as the scout-master, his word had to be recognized as law bythe members of Cranford Troop. Several of the boys manifested signs ofdisappointment, and impulsive Giraffe seemed to be the chief offender.

  As a rule they were not averse to giving vent to their feelings; forbesides being Boy Scouts, they had long been school chums.

  "Oh! that's too bad, now, Thad," Giraffe remarked, dejectedly; "youdidn't want us to chase after that fellow. Four of us ought to've beenable to beat him in a furious dash; and how d'we know but what it isn'tthe very man we've come all the way from Cranford to see?"

  "It's too late now, anyway!" observed Bumpus.

  "Yes, he's disappearing among the shadows yonder," said Davy, who hadsharp eyesight; "and I saw him turn to look back at us just when he waspassing through that bar of sunlight that crosses the water."

  "Did you think he was a negro, or a white man, Davy?" asked Thad,quietly.

  "Well, to tell you the truth, Thad, I guess now he _was_ a coon, allright. He didn't have any hat on, and his hair seemed woolly enough,"Davy admitted, frankly.

  "I thought as much all along," Thad told them, "and that was one of thereasons I wouldn't give the word to pursue him. There were plenty ofothers, though."

  "Name a few, Mr. Scout-master," requested Giraffe, still unconvinced.

  "Oh! well, for instance, we're all pretty tired as it is, and to makethat dash would wear us out. Then we'd lose the chance for camping onthis spot here that I picked out, and we might go a long way withoutrunning across as good a one. And if it was a black outlaw, one of thosedesperate escaped convicts from the turpentine camps, if they have themin Louisiana, even should we manage to overtake him he might happen tohave a gun of some kind. You could hardly blame him for showing fight,Giraffe."

  "Not when you remember that we're wearing uniforms pretty much like theNational Guard, and chances are he believed we were real soldiers, nottin ones," was the contribution of Step Hen, easily convinced, after hehad given the subject a little reflection.

  "Besides," added Bumpus, as a clincher that he knew would catch thelanky scout; "it's nearly time we're thinking of having supper; andsure, it would be too bad if we had to postpone trying that delicioushome-cured ham we fetched along."

  The frown left the forehead of Giraffe like magic, and in its place camea most heavenly smile.

  "I surrender, boys!" he announced. "I throw up my hands, and give in.Seems like everybody's against me, and seven to one is big odds. Must beI'm mistaken. If it was a genuine coon after all, why, sure we'd a beensilly to waste our precious muscle achasing after him. Besides, lookslike the shadows are acreeping out along there, and we'd as like as notget lost somehow. Oh! you're right, as usual, Mr. Scout-master. I'malways letting my ambition run away with my horse sense. Seems like Inever open my mouth but I put my foot in it, somehow."

  "Then why don't you get a button, and keep it shut?" asked Bumpus,promptly.

  "I would, if it was the size of some I've known," responded Giraffe.

  "I hope now, you ain't making wicked comparisons?" the fat scoutdemanded.

  "Why, you don't think I'd be guilty of such unbrotherly kindness, doyou?" was Giraffe's perplexing rejoinder; and knowing that he could notget the better of the tall scout Bumpus gave a grunt, and stopped short.

  They were soon busily engaged in making preparations for camping. Havingcome all the way from home with the idea of spending some time in theSouthern swamp, looking for those whom Thad so earnestly wished to meetface to face, the lads had of course made ample preparations for havingat least a fair degree of comfort.

  None of them had ever been in the Far South, so all they knew about thecountry, its animals, and the habits of its people, must come throughreading, and observation as they went along.

  But they did know the comfort of a tight waterproof canvas tent in caseof a heavy rain storm; and consequently a good part of the luggage theycarried in the three trunks had been a couple of such coverings, besidesthe usual camp outfit about which many happy associations of the pastwere clinging.

  These trunks had of course been left in the small town where they hadobtained the roughly made canoes, to be picked up on their return later.

  Long experience had made every one of them clever hands at tent-raising;and from the way Smithy and Davy undertook to get one up in advance ofStep Hen and Bob White, it was plain to see that the old-time spirit ofrivalry still held good.

  Giraffe as usual took it upon himself to start the cooking fire. He waswhat the other boys called a "crank" at fire-building, and had long agodemonstrated his ability to start a blaze without a single match, by anyone of several ancient methods, such as using a little bow that twirleda sharp-pointed stick so rapidly in a wooden socket that a spark wasgenerated, which in turn quickly communicated to a minute amount ofinflammable material, and was then coaxed along until a fire resulted.

  Bumpus always stood ready to assist in the cooking operations; becausethere were so many other things coming along that required dexterity andagility, and from which his size and clumsiness debarred him, that hejust felt as though he must be doing something in order to shoulder hisshare of the work.

  As the twilight quickly deepened into night--for in the South there isnot a very long interval between the going down of the sun, and thepinning of the curtains of darkness--the scene became quite an animatedone, with eight lively lads moving around, each fulfilling someself-imposed duty that would add to the comfort and happiness of thepatrol in camp.

  And when that "delicious home-cured ham" that Bumpus had spoken of, andwhich had really come from his own house, so that he knew what he wassaying when thus describing it, began to turn a rich brown in the pairof generous frying-pans, giving out a most appetizing odor; togetherwith the coffee that Bumpus himself had kept charge of, well, thehealthy boy who could keep from counting the minutes until summoned tothat glorious feast would have been a strange combination.

  Bumpus was trying a new way with his coffee. Heretofore he had simplyplaced it in the cold water, and brought this to a boil, keeping itgoing for five minutes or more. Now he had the water boiling, and justpoured in the coffee, previously wetted, and with an egg broken into thesame; after which he gave it about a minute to boil, then let it steepalongside the fire for the rest of the time.

  "Better than anything we ever had, isn't it, fellows?" he demanded,after he had tested the contents of his big tin cup, and nearly scaldedhis mouth in his eagerness. "Ketch me going back to the old way again.Coffee boiled is coffee spoiled, I read in our cook book at home."

  It was good, but all the same Giraffe, as well as several others,declared they preferred the old way, because it was such fun to see ifthe cook was caught napping, and allowed the pot to boil over; besides,the aroma as it sent out clouds of steam was worth a whole lot to hungrylads.

  "Bumpus, I've got a favor to ask you," said Davy, as they started tosettle down around the fire, each in a picked position.

  "Go ahead, Davy, you know I'm the most accommodating fellow in thebunch. Tell me what I can do for you," replied the fat scout,immediately; and every word he spoke was actual truth, too, as hiscomrades would have willingly testified if put on the witness stand.

  "I wish you'd let me sit over there, and you take my seat, which, Ireckon is much more comfortable than yours; and besides, you complainedof a pain in your back, and I'm afraid of the chilly night wind takingyou there. You'll face it here instead."

  "Don't you budge, Bumpus!" exclaimed Giraffe; "he's only giving you alittle taffy, don't you see? Thinks he'll have a better chance to enjoyhis grub if the wind don't blow _from_ you, to him. I wouldn't stand forit, Bumpus; you just stay where you are. Reckon you look comfortableenough, and what's the use dodging all around?"

  "Huh! guess you're thinking of your own comfort now, Giraffe," gruntedDavy in disgust.
r />   Bumpus eyed them both in distrust.

  "I remember we learned in school that it was best policy to keep an eyeon the Greeks that come bearing gifts," he wheezed; "and so I'll juststay where I am. If you don't like it, Davy, why, there's plenty ofspace all around. As if I'm to blame because this old swamp isn't thesweetest place agoing."

  The conversation soon became animated and general, so that the threedisputants forgot the cause of their trouble. Bumpus was the bugler ofthe troop, and always insisted on carrying the silver-tongued emblem ofhis office along with him; he had it by his side now; but Thad had givenperemptory orders that he should not make any use of the instrumentexcept by special order; or under conditions that might arise, wherebythey would need to be called together, like a scattered covey of"pa'tridges," as quail are universally designated in the South.

  "We must remember," Thad went on to say, "that this isn't just anordinary jaunt, or an outing for fun. It means a whole lot to me that Imanage to find the man and the little girl. Either it will turn out tobe Felix Jasper and my lost sister; or else we'll prove that thegentleman was terribly mistaken. And you can understand, fellows, what aload I'm laboring under all the time that puzzle remains unsolved. But Iwant you to remember that we ought to keep as quiet as we can. Bumpus,you understand the situation, and why we don't ask you to amuse us withsome of your fine songs?"

  Bumpus had a very good voice, and often did entertain his chums while incamp by singing certain songs they were particularly fond of. He was asensible fellow, and did not take offense easily. Moreover, even thoughhe might feel huffed over some action on the part of his mates, he never"let the sun go down on his wrath," but was quick to extend the olivebranch of peace.

  "Sure I understand, Thad!" he declared; "and I'm going to bottle up myvoice on this occasion, so's to have it in fine trim, to let loose in ahallelujah when we find that it _is_ your little sister Pauline--"

  Bumpus said no more, and for a very good reason; because, just at thatparticular moment there arose the strangest sort of sound from somepoint close by, such as none of the scouts could ever remember hearingbefore.