“That’s the stuff!” cried Bart, as he looked to make sure he had his favorite rifle.
In due time the camping site was reached, the teamster helped them unload, and then drove back, leaving the four chums alone in quite a lonely stretch of wilderness. But they were used to depending on themselves, they knew they had plenty of food, and they hoped to procure more with their guns.
“First thing on the programme is to make the camp-fire, and then set up the tents,” declared Bart, who constituted himself a sort of leader.
Previous experience stood the boys in good stead, and in a short time a roaring fire was blazing, and a kettle of soup in the making was suspended over it. Then the canvas shelters were put up.
It was not easy work, and the boys labored hard, but at last the white tent stood among the trees, making a picturesque spot in the wilderness. Then the cooking shelter was put up, and the stove set, after which Fenn, who constituted himself cook on this occasion, served dinner.
The rest of the day was spent in cutting firewood, seeing to the fastenings of the tents, putting up cots, arranging their baggage and food supplies, and in putting together their shot guns and rifles, for each lad had two weapons.
By this time it was nearly night-fall, and some lanterns were lighted, and hung within and without the tent, giving the place a cheerful look.
As Fenn was walking about, getting ready for a late supper, he stumbled over something, and nearly fell.
“What’s that, a tree root?” asked Bart. “If it is, chop it out, or we’ll all be doing the same thing.”