By degrees the seeming star grew into a light of the first magnitude, and finally even the two less experienced scouts were ready to affirm that it must be a camp-fire.
They kept on going.
“We’ll sure give old Bumpus the biggest surprise of his life,” chuckled Step Hen, as they drew nearer the place.
Of course they made some noise pushing along through the almost dark woods, but then Bumpus would not be apt to hear that. Perhaps the poor tired fellow was already fast asleep alongside the fire.
A few minutes later, and the boys were very close to the blaze. Giraffe thrust up his head above the bushes, which he was better fitted by Nature for doing than any of his comrades.
“Don’t see a sign of him about, fellers,” he whispered, ducking down again.
Thereupon the others also raised their heads to look. There was the fire, burning cheerfully, and showing that it must have had recent care. But not a single sign of a human being was to be seen.
It was very strange.
“Mebbe he heard us coming, and thought it was a bear,” suggested Step Hen.
“And in that case I guess Bumpus would take to a tree,” Giraffe added.