After this little incident preparations for passing the night were continued, the tents being raised, and the fire encouraged to reach that stage where Giraffe and his assistant might have all the red coals needed in order to properly carry out the cooking operations as usual.
Davy was wandering around, still eying Bumpus suspiciously, as though not wholly satisfied in his mind that all the trouble was over; but the fat scout had been vindicated at the hands of Thad, so what cared he if Davy chose to show his poor judgment, when everybody else seemed satisfied.
Once Davy even wandered over to where the burial of the onions had taken place, and with his foot scraped even more soil over the spot, as though he wanted to be doubly sure they had confined everything in that hole.
When the supper was finally ready it was a merry group that squatted around, for Giraffe always felt particularly joyous when about to satisfy his acute hunger, and on this particular occasion he believed he had a double reason to rejoice, in that the food supply was bounteous, and a baffling mystery had been solved, so there would be no further reason for his keeping awake nights, trying to guess the answer, and making things unpleasant for poor Bumpus.
They chattered about nearly everything under the sun, as they sat there munching away at the repast; which consisted of breakfast bacon (as they had come to term the real stuff, since plain salt pork is called “bacon” in the South) fried potatoes, with just one onion cut up in the same, to give a flavor, and which Giraffe had saved from the wreck before the explosion came; some toast made from the last loaf of bread they had along; cheese for those who liked it; some pork chops; and last but not least, the usual coffee that did not seem to keep anybody awake, though a number were not in the habit of drinking it save at breakfast when at home; but then lots of things are done with impunity in camp that no one dares think of when under his own roof-tree.
“And after this, sweet balmy sleep!” said Smithy, who was somewhat given to spouting poetry, and showing a spirit of romance.
“Yes,” added Giraffe, “and we’re all of us tired enough to enjoy a good eight hour snooze, unless Thad wants us to keep watch and watch, which I hope he won’t.”
“And I do hope,” remarked Bumpus, sweetly, “that I’ll be able to crawl into my bully old blanket and hit the straw, without hearing any coarse remarks about it’s being time old suits of khaki that have stood the wear of time were called in!”
CHAPTER XI.
ALLIGATOR SMITH, THE GUIDE.
“What’s the matter, Thad?” asked Allan, some time later, while they were lounging around the jolly camp-fire, and taking things easy.