In the end they found that grits did satisfy their hunger remarkably well; and taking Giraffe’s advice Bumpus had actually cooked the entire amount on hand, so there was plenty to go around three times.
The tea was another matter, for they had neither sugar nor milk to go with it, and although each fellow managed to drink one cup, some of them made wry faces while disposing of the brewing.
“Kind of warms you up inside,” commented Davy, “and that’s the only reason I try to get it down; but, oh! you coffee!”
“Here, none of that, Davy,” said Thad; “scouts have to make the best of a bad bargain, and never complain. We’d be feeling lots worse if it wasn’t for this breakfast.”
“Well, suh, I’m quite satisfied, and feel as if I’d had the pick of the land,” Bob White remarked stoutly.
“Yes, but you like the stuff, and I never would eat it at home,” complained Step Hen.
“Time you began to know what good things are, then, suh,” the Southern boy told him plainly.
Even Bumpus admitted that he felt very good after they had emptied both kettles of the simple fare. For the time being he was able to put the dismal future out of his mind, and actually smile again.
Thad had not told them as yet what plan he was arranging with regard to hunting down the tramps who were on the island with them, and of course most of the scouts were eager to know.
Accordingly, after the meal was finished, they began to crowd around and give the scout master hints that they were waiting for him to arrange the details of that “combing” business he had spoken of.