They were soon ready.
As the five lads went forth they presented quite a formidable appearance indeed, what with the gun, the camp hatchet, the long bread knife, and a pair of clubs thick enough to give a fellow a nasty headache if ever they were brought in contact with his cranium.
"First of all, it's only right we should give a hail; and if Bumpus is wandering around somewhere he may answer us; and then we can wait for him to come in. I see he's left his bugle with his blanket here; pick it up somebody and give the recall, if anybody knows how."
"Trust that to me!" exclaimed Davy; and snatching up the nickeled instrument he placed it to his lips, immediately sending forth the strident sounds that have done duty on many a battlefield.
No sooner had the last note pealed forth than every boy listened eagerly; but there was no reply.
"Sure he could have heard that, even if he was at the other end of the island," remarked Davy, ready to try again if the scout-master told him to do so.
"And Bumpus has got a good pair of lungs, so he'd be able to let us know he was on to the job, if he had the use of his mouth!" remarked Giraffe, darkly.
"But you don't hear even a peep, do you, fellows?" remarked Step Hen.
"Come on, and fetch that bugle with you, Davy," said Thad; "we might need it again later, you know. I wonder, now, what the poachers will think when they hear a bugle sound? If they don't know anything about the Scouts, they'll think more than ever that we belong to the Canadian militia."
Thad could understand just what course Bumpus was likely to take in passing along the rough surface of the ground between their landing place and the spot where they had found the friendly ledge.