"Pretty near time we started again for the lake, isn't it, Thad?" demanded Step-hen, something like an hour after they had stopped to break the march with a bite and a cool drink.
"Oh! please let me finish this little grub," called out Giraffe, who was tremendously fond of eating; "it's a shame to waste it. You stopped me from making a fire you know, Thad; and I fell behind the rest of you that way."
"I never saw such a fellow, always crazy to set fire to things," remarked Davy Jones. "He'll burn the whole world up some day."
"I expect to set the river on fire when I get in business," grinned Giraffe.
"Give the signal to fall in, Mr. Bugler—but I say, where is Bumpus anyway?" asked the acting scout-master, looking around.
"Oh! he went wandering away some time ago," remarked Davy. "But here's his horn; let's see if I can blow the old thing."
He put the shining instrument to his lips, puffed out his cheeks, and emitted a frightful groaning sound. The rest of the scouts had just started to laugh when there came a strange, rattling noise from the woods near by, as though a landslide might be in progress. And accompanying the racket they heard a feeble voice that must belong to Bumpus, though no one recognized it, calling out:
"Help! help! Oh, somebody come quick, and save me!"
With that call every member of the scout patrol leaped erect, staring at one another in dismay.