Just the same a schedule was made out, the boys taking turns in pairs at cooking while the others took turns at making beds and cleaning up generally. This schedule worked out very well, and while some of the things may not have been cooked as well as if the colored man had served them, nobody complained.
The boys had not forgotten about the big black bear, and on the following day all set out on a hunt. Each carried firearms of some sort, and they likewise took with them a substantial lunch, for there was no telling when they would get back to the bungalow.
“Now that Jeff is gone, I guess we’d better lock up the bungalow,” said Gif. “We don’t want any tramps or wild animals to get into it.”
“What about the boats?” questioned Spouter.
“Oh, we’ll leave them tied up. I think they’ll be safe enough. We can put the oars in the house.” And this was done.
Gif was acquainted with the path that ran along the lakeshore, and he led the way with the others following close behind. They passed through some heavy brushwood, and then made their way around and over a series of rough rocks.
“Say, this puts me in mind of some of the climbing we did when we located that cave where those fellows had the German submarine,” remarked Fred, referring to a time which has been described in detail in the volume entitled “The Rover Boys Under Canvas.”
“Gee, but those were exciting times!” said Jack.
“Oh, we’ve had some other exciting times since then,” came from Randy. “Don’t forget our days down in Texas and out at Big Horn Ranch.”
The six lads pressed on, Gif and Jack somewhat in advance and the others following more slowly. Spouter brought up the rear, for he was very apt at times to stop to view the situation.