“We ought to keep a guard to-night, though,” suggested Bert. “Perhaps these animals hunt in pairs. I’ve heard of panthers that do.”
“That’s all right; we’ll have a guard,” replied Bob. “Ben’s the one to do it.”
“Me? Well, I guess not! Say, who fixed me that way?” he suddenly inquired, his anger evidently returning at the thought of the wrongs he had suffered.
“Well, I did,” drawled Bob, “if you really want to know.”
“What did you do it for?”
“To make you see the point. When I’m lecturing on the early discoverers of the St. Lawrence, I don’t want you to go to sleep. I’m not doing it for the fun of the thing. It’s duty, pure duty; I want to teach my benighted countrymen something about the heroes of this region.”
“Nobody asked you to,” replied Ben, half laughing, though he was still angry over his wrongs. “If I’d invited you to speak or paid for the privilege that would have been another matter. Where did you get the stuff, Bob? Out of an almanac or the cyclopædia?”
“Out of my head. By the way, Ben, what made you yell so when you woke us up?”
“Yell? Well, perhaps you’d keep quiet when you opened your eyes in the night and saw a wild beast crawling over the roof of the tent and ready to spring upon you and devour you. Then when I tried to move I found some one had tied me hand and foot.”