Burly Bill, who was more emphatic than choice in English, called it a tiptopper, and all hands in Roland's spacious tent did ample justice to it.
Roland even spliced the main-brace, as far as Bill was concerned, by opening a bottle of choice port.
The boys themselves merely sipped a little. What need have lads under twenty for vinous stimulants?
Bill's story was a long one, but I shall not repeat it. He had encountered the greatest difficulty imaginable in procuring the sort of boats he needed.
"But," he added, "all's well that end's well, I guess, and we'll start soon now, I suppose, for the rapids of Antonio."
"Yes," said Roland, "we'll strike camp possibly to-morrow; but we must do as much loading up as possible to-night."
"That's the style," said Bill. "We've got to make haste. Only we've got to think! 'Haste but not hurry', that's my motto.
"But I say," he continued, "I miss two friends--where is Mr. Peter and where is Brawn?"
"Peter has taken French leave, I fear, and Brawn, where is Brawn, Dick?"
"I really did not miss either till now," answered Dick, "but let us continue to be fair to Mr. Peter-- Listen!"