“You are wet to the skin, Henry. You’ll have to dry your clothes or you’ll take cold.”
“I’ll wring them out and make that do, Dave. We won’t dare to light a campfire.”
“Not if we can find a hollow? The mist will hide a good deal, remember.”
“Well, we’ll see about it.”
Henry did not relish remaining in the wet and darkness any more than did his cousin, and both searched around until they found a spot with high rocks on two sides and a thick group of trees opposite. To get some dry wood was the next task, and then came the problem of starting the blaze. But this was solved by Henry, who poured some loose powder on a dry rock, mixed it with some tinder, and then hammered the rock with the ramrod of his gun. Soon came a flash and a hiss, and the tinder glowed, and presently the fire flared up pleasantly enough. Around it they piled some flat stones, shutting in the light as much as possible.
“Do you think we ought to pull in the canoe?” asked Dave. “The Indians may come along and see it.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad plan,” answered Henry.
They soon had the battered craft out of the river. They turned it upside down, resting each end on a rock, and thus it formed for them something of a shelter in front of the fire.
With the brightness of the blaze, matters appeared to take on a more cheerful turn. Henry took off the most of his garments and dried them, and Dave did likewise, and the former also cared for his hurt ankle. The youths calculated that it was about midnight. They did not know where they were, nor what new dangers might confront them. Each looked to his firearm, to see that it could be used if necessary, and one kept the hunting knife and the other the tomahawk in readiness.
“I think we had better take turns watching,” said Henry. “There is no use in both keeping awake.”