No one gave heed to the fat boy's plaints. They were enjoying themselves too thoroughly after their long wet walk. After supper the boys began to put the camp in shape for the night. Tad cut down a tree, getting a shower of water over him and wetting himself to the skin again. This tree he chopped into proper lengths for a campfire while Ned and Walter toted them to camp. The interior of the tent was thoroughly dried out by this time, so that when they were ready for bed their bedroom was warm and sweet and dry. They had dried out their blankets fairly well, and wrapping up in them the boys settled down for a night's rest just at midnight. They did not remember ever to have had a better night's rest. It seemed as if they had just gone to sleep when they were awakened by Cale.
"Time to get up," he called cheerily. "We will have a quick breakfast, then you will lead us back to camp, Master Tad."
Packs were quickly lashed after breakfast, and before the sun had topped the fronds of the great pines the party was wending its way through the trackless forest, Tad leading the way with unerring instinct, backed by keenest observation.
[CHAPTER XII]
CHUNKY MEETS A BULL MOOSE
"That was as fine a piece of trailing as ever a mountaineer did, Master Tad," announced Cale approvingly as they came in sight of the little lake where the permanent camp was pitched.
"Oh, it is easy to follow a trail so plainly marked as was that," answered Butler.
"Not so easy as you would make it out to be. None but an experienced Woodsman could follow even that trail, let me tell you, young man. And even on a clear trail there isn't that man living who doesn't get lost once in a while. When you do get lost, sit down and think it over. Don't get the willyjigs and go all to pieces."
"I never do," replied Tad. "Still, that isn't saying that I wouldn't get them up here."
"What are the willyjigs?" asked Stacy.