All the same, he got up, and began to gather small tinder on his own account.
"Mind you," he observed a minute later, as though half regretting his action in squelching Step Hen so soon; "if anybody feels like lending a hand to gather fuel, why there ain't nothin' against that; and we'll have that bully old coffee all the sooner, you understand."
This sort of subtle persuasion seemed to at least stir Davy Jones into life, for getting slowly to his feet, he began to collect larger wood, and throw it down close to where the energetic fire-builder was starting to make his blaze.
Giraffe was a real fire worshipper. He dreamed of his pet hobby; and many times could be seen, apparently idly whittling a stick; when, if asked what he was doing, his reply would invariably be:
"Well, we might want to start a fire some time or other; and then these shavings'd come in handy, you see."
On several notable occasions this weakness of Giraffe's had managed to get him into more or less trouble; and the sagacious scout leader finally had to take him to task. So on this mountain hike it had been agreed between them that Giraffe would refrain from attempting his favorite rôle of making miscellaneous fires at odd times, if allowed to build all the camp-fires of the trip.
And so far he had really kept his word, though there were times when the temptation nearly overcame his scruples.
When Thad and the other two came back, darkness had settled over the scene. This came all the sooner on account of the high walls that shut them in on either side; though just beyond the boys believed there must be some sort of an open spot, in the way of a valley.
"I'm glad to see that you made a fine fireplace for cooking, Number Six," remarked the patrol leader, as he looked around; "because we may spend a day or so right here, resting up a bit. Now, while supper is getting underway I'm going to tell you a few things that are apt to interest you some. They concern our comrade Bob White here, and he's given me full permission to say what I'm going to."
"There, Step Hen, what did I tell you?" cried Bumpus, gleefully. "Next time just get a throttle grip on that bump of curiosity of yours."