"A hit?" repeated Whopper. "We all made home runs!" And at this reference to baseball all of the boys laughed.
Taking the game to the rowboat, they resumed their journey, and by noon reached the watercourse connecting the two lakes. Here they stopped at a spot well known to them and built a camp fire, and here they roasted all of the game, fearing it might not keep in such hot weather.
"I'm going to try baking 'em in mud," said Giant, who had learned the trick from Jed Sanborn. Leaving the feathers on the grouse the lad plastered each bird thickly with some clayey mud, and then placed them in the fire to roast, or bake, as he called it. He watched them with care and tried one frequently to see if it was done.
"Now I guess this will do," he said at last, and cracked the baked mud from the grouse. With the mud came the feathers of the bird, leaving the meat clean. The grouse was tender and juicy and done to a turn.
"Giant, you'll have to get a job as a chef in a big hotel," said the doctor's son, smacking his lips over the feast. "This game certainly couldn't be, better."
"Why not leave some of the partridge right in the baked mud?" suggested Snap. "It ought to keep well that way."
"We can try it," said Whopper.
The collie was given his share of the dinner and appeared to enjoy it as much as the boys. He acted as if he felt perfectly at home with the young hunters, and made no offer to leave them.
"If he wasn't such a fine dog I'd put him down as an outcast," said Shep. "But nobody would abandon such a fine animal—-he's worth too much money."
Once again the boy hunters proceeded on their way. As they entered the watercourse connecting the two lakes they noticed that the current was flowing swiftly.