“Oh! shucks! what would we care, so long as we’re heavily armed, and eight of us all told, when poor old Crusoe was alone? I’d give something just to run across a footprint that wasn’t made by one of us, and that’s straight, fellows.”
No one doubted but what Giraffe meant every word, for his boldness had never been reckoned a questionable article. Indeed, on some occasions he had even shown bravery bordering on recklessness, so that the scout leader found it necessary to take him to task.
Giraffe soon amused himself in taking stock of their available supply of food, and listing the same in his methodical way. He would soon know just how many meals they could count on before being compelled to hustle for further supplies.
“Now, since we’ve never struck this island before, and ain’t supposed to know a single thing about what sort of animals inhabit it, if any, I’m expecting to hang the eatables out of harm’s way. That’s why I fetched this leavings of the old cable along with me. I’ll take time to unravel the kinks, and untwist the windings, so in the end I’ll have quite a fine stout cord that’s going to be mighty useful in a whole lot of ways.”
Giraffe was happy only when busily employed. At other times he was apt to seem restless, and much like a tiger pacing up and down in its cage.
They were making themselves as comfortable as possible under the strange conditions that prevailed. All scouts are drilled in the art of observation, and constantly keeping their eyes on the alert in order to better their situation. So it was first one fellow who would decide to do a thing this way; and then another would go him one better, always with a spirit of healthy rivalry that was productive of results.
“There’s the sun!” announced Smithy suddenly, for he had seen it glint on the agitated water far out on the eastern side, where there was an opening in the brush through which it was possible to glimpse the river.
“Welcome, stranger!” called out Giraffe, dramatically saluting; “we hope your stay with us may be long and happy.”
“It feels real good, too, after so much gloomy weather, and all that downpour,” Bumpus declared, as he opened his coat to let the warm rays strike him more fully.
Giraffe of course had his fire going; life would be shorn of much of its bright features if he were prevented from pursuing his favorite hobby. The old ax served to supply them with heavier fuel, which seemed to burn splendidly after being in part dried out.