“He’s off, Rob,” Andy remarked in a low voice. “Gee! but Tubby can go to sleep the easiest of any one I ever knew. Honest, now, I believe he could take a nap while walking along, if only some fellows kept him from tumbling over. All he has to do is to shut his eyes, take half a dozen long breaths, and then he’s clear gone.”
“Well, don’t talk any more now, Andy. We’ll both try to imitate his sensible example,” cautioned the other, as he started to creep under his blanket, having removed his shoes and coat beforehand, although he wisely kept them handy in case a sudden necessity should arise.
So the time passed. Rob did wake up some hours afterward, and creeping out replenished the fire. As he did so he took note of the fact that once again there faintly came to his ears the long-drawn whistle of an engine; and he fancied that it meant to notify those who guarded the bridge of the approach of a fresh train loaded with valuable army stores, or troops bound for the war trenches over in Northern France.
Again Rob snuggled down under his blanket, feeling grateful for the comforts that a generous fortune had supplied him with. He was not long in going to sleep.
Happily no one was nervous in that camp. He, too, soon lost consciousness, and possibly slept for several hours, for when next he awoke the fire had once more died down to red embers.
This time, however, the awakening was along entirely different lines. It was caused by the whole end of their brush shanty falling down with a crash, as though some heavy object had been hurled against it. At the same time the startled trio of scouts, sitting hastily up amidst the wreckage of their late shelter, saw some huge lumbering object scatter the glowing embers of the smouldering fire in every direction as it dashed madly through the camp.
Tubby was stricken dumb with amazement. Possibly he had been indulging in some extravagant dream in which the giant Jabberwock that sported through “Alice in Wonderland” was creating great excitement. He stared at the vanishing bulky animal as though he could hardly believe his eyes. Andy apparently had not lost control of his vocal organs, to judge by the shout he let out.
CHAPTER V
COMFORTING TUBBY
“Hey! What does this mean, knocking our house to flinders that way? Hold up, you, and tell us what you’re aiming at. A nice old farm bull you are, to be treating strangers so rough! Say, look at the dead leaves catching on fire, will you, boys!”
“Get busy, everybody!” called out Rob, already commencing to pull his shoes on as fast as he could, so that he might creep out from the wreckage of the brush shanty and prevent a forest fire from starting.