“Thanks, we will!” replied Bumpus scornfully, as though he did not anticipate such a thing happening; if Davy considered that he and Smithy were still greenhorns and must be treated as babes in the woods, he was very much mistaken, that was all.
As Giraffe liked to say, “you never can tell,” and stranger things than that can come about when boys are loose in the wilderness.
Those left by the fire continued to sprawl around in favorite attitudes, and take their ease. The day had another hour or so left, and there was Giraffe overhauling the food supply, evidently making out the menu which he meant to serve up for the evening meal—trust Giraffe for taking care of such things.
The sun was shining cheerily now, and that at least was some comfort to these castaway scouts. They expected that with the coming of another day they would be able to start a scheme looking to making a move to get away; and that thought gave them encouragement.
It was at this moment there rang out a sudden cry that caused everyone to spring up and look startled.
“It sounded like Smithy’s voice!” exclaimed Thad, as he gained his feet.
“Yes, that’s what it did!” echoed Giraffe; “something must have happened after all! Mebbe they’ve gone and met up with trouble! Mebbe there are some people on this island that don’t like us being here! Thad, what shall we do?”
Quick and energetic came the patrol leader’s order.
“Step Hen, stay here to guard the camp; the rest of you follow me!”
Without wasting another second the five boys rushed away toward the spot where again and again they could hear Smithy’s shrill voice calling for help!