So eager were the boys to taste their first meal under canvas that they could hardly be held in check.
"Why," said Paul, laughing when some of them pleaded with him, and declared they were bordering on a state of actual starvation; "if we ate now, a lot of you would be hungry again before we turned in. I figure on three square meals a day; but four would upset all my calculations. Half an hour more, boys. Suppose you get a few pictures of this first camp? They'll be worth while."
In this fashion did he manage to keep them from dissatisfaction. At last he gave the word that allowed the various cooks to set to work. There was no lack of helpers, for every fellow hung around, watching the peeling of the potatoes with hungry eyes; but when a delicious aroma began to arise from the first frying pan set over the hot fire, some of them backed away, unable to stand it longer.
William, as the champion flapjack tosser of the entire troop, was of course in big demand at the fire of his patrol. He had brought along a white cook's cap which he insisted on donning as he hovered over his outdoor range, and gave his orders to willing subordinates.
That meal was one never to be forgotten by any of the boys. To a number it proved the very first they had ever eaten under similar conditions; and with ravenous appetites, whetted by the long tramp, and the cool air that came with evening, it seemed as though they could devour the entire mess alone.
But their eyes proved larger than their capacities, for there was plenty for all, and no one complained of not being satisfied when the meal ended.
Each patrol had a regularly-organized system whereby the work might be divided up, and every fellow get his share. Hence there could be no favors shown, and no chance for disputes.
One of the leading rules was that duty came before play. Consequently the tin platters, cups, knives, forks and spoons, as well as what utensils had been used in preparing the dinner, were cleaned and laid away before Paul allowed the big fire to be started.