"Oh, I dread to think of their going into battle!" said his mother.
"Ma, while we are away don't forget to send us any news that may come in," said Jack quickly. "You can telegraph to Timminsport, and we will leave word there at the telegraph office so that any important message will be delivered to us."
"I'll certainly do that, Jack." And later on Mrs. Tom Rover and Mrs. Sam Rover promised to do the same thing.
"There is no telling what may happen to our dads if they get into a regular first-class battle," remarked Fred, that night when the four boys were holding a little conference among themselves.
"Well, we've got to take what comes," returned Randy briefly. "However, I'll be as much worried as ma until this war is at an end or until our dads come home."
The boys had looked over their traps with care and examined their rifles and shotguns, and had even gone down into the cellar of one of their residences to try out the weapons to make certain that they were in working order.
With a shotgun in his hand Andy wanted to have some fun with one of the servant girls, but Randy quickly stopped him.
"Nothing doing, Andy," he said. "You'll only make ma nervous, and she is nervous enough already, thinking about dad. You save your tomfoolery until we are on the way or up at the camp."
At length came the time for the boys to take their departure. Jack hated to think of running away from Ruth, and Fred was equally sorry to leave May Powell behind, yet the thought of what was ahead brightened all of the lads considerably.
"We ought to have the time of our lives," declared Fred. "That is, if hunting is half as good as Gif Garrison said it was."