“Here I take my stand. I can do no other,” responded Ben, striking an attitude as he spoke. “If I go back to camp, it’ll be in my light canoe.”
“Let him go on a raft if he wants to,” said Bob, glumly. “We’ve done our part, and it’s his own risk now.”
“Ben, you’ll keep close to us, won’t you?” pleaded Jock.
“Yes, if you’ll keep close to me,” replied Ben. “You’ll have to do your best to keep up, though, I can tell that.”
Lighthearted now, the boys resumed their places in the skiff, Bert taking Jock’s place at the oars, and with Ben in his canoe, which had not suffered any from the storm, started down the river.
Ben was as good as his words, and though the two pairs of oars enabled his friends to make excellent time, they were compelled to exert themselves to the utmost to keep the skiff within sight. As a consequence, when they arrived at the camp, as they did soon afterward, they were thoroughly tired, and ready for the supper which Ethan and Tom had provided.
Ben’s appearance was as welcome to the boatmen as it had been to the boys, and while they were seated at the table he was compelled to relate the story of his adventure again. As Jock perceived that the tents had been restored, he turned to Ethan and said,—
“Did you have any trouble in setting the tents up again?”
“Just a little,” responded Ethan. “One o’ ’em I found up in the top o’ that pine tree over yonder, and t’other one was down on the shore, but we managed to git ’em all right enough. Neow then, I’m a-goin’ to take that canoe back with me to-night. I jest won’t leave it where that Ben can get hold of it. The next time he’ll not be so lucky.”