“We can get along all right,” Tom assured him. “And may we begin hunting whenever we want to?”
“Start in now if you like, but I’d advise waiting until to-morrow,” the guide said, with a chuckle.
“Yes, we’ll wait,” agreed Jack.
Though the four chums had never been to a real hunters’ camp before, they had often shifted for themselves in the woods, or at some lake, and though they were perhaps not as expert housekeepers as girls, or women, they managed to get up a good meal in comparatively short time.
The fire was started in the kitchen stove, and another blaze was soon roaring up the big chimney in the living-room. This would take the chill off the bunk-room, for it was very cold in there, the windows being covered with a coating of ice.
“Baked beans—from a can—bacon and eggs—coffee and canned peaches, with bread and butter. How does that strike you for the first meal?” asked Tom, who had been looking through the cupboard.
“Fine!” cried Jack. “But what about bread? If there’s any here, it will be as stale as a rock.”
“Sam had some in the sled. His wife baked it, I guess,” said Tom, indicating a bundle on the table. “I found some butter in a jar here.”
“Then start the meal!” cried Bert. “I’m hungry.”
They all were, and they did ample justice to the viands that were soon set forth. The cabin was filled with the appetizing odor of bacon and coffee, and wagging tongues were momentarily stilled, for jaws were busy chewing.