“I should say, yes,” Giraffe observed, with such a meaning look that the other took umbrage at once, and flamed out with:
“’Tain’t any more like the caw of a crow than your squawk is, Giraffe, and you know it, even if you used to say so. That’s because you was envious because, outside of Bumpus himself, I could sing better’n any other scout in the whole troop.”
Giraffe made no answer to this taunt. He only looked appealing toward Thad, as much as to say that he was not to blame for this flare-up.
They walked on for a while, although the going was not so very pleasant, owing to the fact that the bushes were all so wet, they had to avoid contact with them.
Allan and Thad conferred as they went, and apparently must have laid out their plans, for the others presently became aware of the fact that they seemed to be moving ahead in something like a direct line.
Although they had thus far met with no great success, Step Hen and Giraffe still felt considerable confidence in their leaders. Thad and Allan seemed so able to cope with anything and everything that came along, it was no wonder the others had begun to believe they could accomplish the impossible.
But when the afternoon waned, and another night stared them in the face, they had to temporarily forget about Bumpus, and consider their own condition.
A fire would certainly be needed, for everything around them was still wet; and as the droppings from the trees had partly soaked their garments, Thad thought they must dry out.
But a piece of luck came their way about this time that was as welcome as it was unexpected.
Step Hen happened to be out on the left flank, and suddenly the others heard the report of his rifle in that quarter. As they hastily turned that way, it was to see Step Hen dancing madly up and down.