"Plenty, sir," Dick answered cheerily, though his heart sank a trifle as he thought of how the cattle owner and his helpers might clean out their stock.
Dick and Greg busied themselves with carrying over to the clearing such things as Mr. Ross said that they would need. Then it was decided that the vegetables should be cooked at the camp.
"Let me see your stock of provisions and perhaps I may get another idea," proposed the cattle owner. "I see that you have flour, and oh, yes; you have all that will be needed for a pudding, and one of my men knows how to make one of the best boiled puddings you ever ate out under the sky."
Drawing a small horn from one of his side pockets, Mr. Ross blew a long, shrill blast.
"Jim will come in as soon as possible, after hearing that sound," smiled the cattle owner.
Jim Hornby rode in within five minutes. He was a lean, long, roughened and reddened farm laborer, but when told that a boiled pudding was wanted he walked straight to the place where the supplies were kept.
"Everything here but berries," Jim explained. "Any of you boys know where to get some blueberries?"
Greg knew, and promptly departed with a pail.
Crackle! Crackle! Two brisk fires were now going in the burnt clearing, started by Dick at Mr. Ross' direction. By this time Mr. Ross' other helper had come in, reporting that the cattle were quiet and grazing, and now this helper and his employer began to remove the hide from one of the cows.
"This cow was overcome by smoke and hot air as soon as it rushed into the blaze," explained Mr. Ross. "Therefore, this will be safe meat to eat. When an animal, however, dies in pain, after much suffering, its flesh should never be used for food. Bill, now that we've gotten the hide off you mount and ride back to the wagon. Bring it along."