CHAPTER XII.—A BEAR, A FISH, AND A TREE.
Captain Joe, in his best manner, offered the most abject apologies for his conduct, and ended by rubbing his wet muzzle against the boy’s hand and receiving a forgiving pat on the head.
“If you’ll look after the boat, a little while,” Clay said, shivering, “I’ll go out with the dog and look for the boys. There may be something wrong with them. They should have returned an hour ago.”
“If they don’t get back right soon,” Case remarked, “they won’t get any fish. The oven was hot when I put that big one in, and it won’t be long before supper will be ready.”
“I’m uneasy about them,” Clay admitted.
“Then you go back to the boat,” Case advised, “and let me look after the kids. You’re shivering with cold! I’ll take Captain Joe with me, and we’ll dig ’em out in no time. Then we’ll bring the fish on board and have a feast. I suppose you have the other things nearly ready?”
“Why, yes,” Day remembered, “I put the coffee and potatoes over, and they’ll be spoiled if I don’t hurry back. You’ll have to hunt up the boys after all. I’ll get right back to the boat and get dried out.”
“But look here,” Case cried out, as Clay started toward the primitive canoe, “how are we to get on board if you take the boat back?”
“I’ll tie a cord to the line and throw it back,” Clay solved the puzzle, picking up a stone. “I suppose I can throw a rock sixty feet?”
“All right,” laughed Case. “I didn’t think of that. Now you get back and dry yourself. And get supper ready, and don’t throw the line to the shore until you hear us calling.”