Meanwhile, the other boys had been engaged in making up the various packs which from now on must be shouldered by each member of the expedition. Experience in such things allowed them to accomplish more in a given time than novices would have been able to do.
“Everything seems to be ready, Paul,” announced Jack after a while, as they gathered around, each boy striving to fix his individual pack upon his back, and getting some other fellow to adjust the straps.
Bobolink seemed to have half again as much as any of the others, though this was really all his own doing. Besides his usual share of the luggage he had pots and pans and skillets sticking out in all directions, so that he presented the appearance of a traveling tinker. 102
“It’s a great pity, Bobolink,” said Tom Betts, with a grin, as he surveyed his comrade after helping the other load up, “that you were born about seventy-five years too late.”
“Tell me why,” urged the other.
“Think what a peddler you would have made! You’d have been a howling success hawking your goods around the country.”
Of course they had all adjusted their skates before taking up their packs; for bending down would really have been next to a physical impossibility after those weighty burdens had been assumed.
“Hope you have a right good time, boys,” said Abe Turner in parting. “And don’t any of you worry about these boats. When you come back this way you’ll find everything slick and neat here.”
“Good for you, Abe,” cried Tom Betts. “And make up your mind to it the Banner Boy Scouts never forget their friends. You’re on the list, Abe. Good-bye!”
They were off at last, and it was high time, for the short December day was already getting well along toward its close. Night would come almost before they knew it, though they had no reason to expect anything like darkness, with that moon now much more than half full up there in the heavens. 103