Tubby quickly recovered, and joined in the laugh. The joke was on him. He no longer declined to make up with the four-footed stranger. His heart was tender, and he repented having called the wretched beast so many hard names. Tubby was really the first to discover that the dog acted as though almost famished, sniffing around, and looking longingly up toward the hams that hung from the rafter.
“Oh, you poor fellow!” said Tubby. “I bet you’re as hungry as can be. Haven’t had a single bite for a whole day? I guess I know what that means. I’ll fix you out in a jiffy, see if I don’t; Uncle George will say I’m doing the decent thing by you, too. Here, Wolf, for I’m going to call you that just for a joke, watch me get you a hunk of the poorest part of that haunch of venison.”
Tubby was as good as his word, too. The stray dog had reason to rejoice over the freak of fortune that had sent him in the way of these new friends. Indeed, he gave promise of turning out to be quite a welcome addition to the party, for all of the scouts were fond of pet animals that could show affection. Wolf duly licked Tubby’s plump hand after being fed, as his only way of displaying dog gratitude.
So the long afternoon wasted away. As evening approached the boys gave up all hope of seeing Uncle George that day. But then none of them worried, for things had turned out splendidly so far, and they could find reason to hope for the return of the party within forty-eight hours at most.
Tubby was as good as his word, too, and cut off quite a bountiful supply of that nice fresh venison, which he cooked with some strips of bacon; for all of them knew that this was the only proper way in which such meat should be used, since it was too dry to be attractive otherwise.
They pronounced the supper “gilt-edged,” which in boyish language means the acme of perfection. As every one, including even “Wolf,” whose appetite seemed boundless, proved to be exceedingly hungry, the repast was a royal feast. Then they sat around the fire, chatting and telling stories. Tubby even started up one of their school songs, and being joined by the other pair, the low rafters of that bunk-house resounded with the glorious refrain. In days past sounds far less innocent, ribald language and loud oaths, may have been heard within those walls, for as a rule the sturdy lumber jacks are the roughest kind of men, as hard as some of the knots they strike with their axes.
An hour or so later the boys settled down for a good sleep. Wolf had been let out for a run, and did not come back again, so Rob said he must be feeling so refreshed after his feed that he wanted to take a turn around, possibly in hopes of finding his lost home; or again it might be he was desirous of running a deer, for Wolf was a guide’s dog, they had determined.
When they all retired the dog had not shown up again. Andy said he was an ungrateful cur, deserting his friends in that fashion; but Tubby stood up manfully for the dog, declaring that it was only right he should want to find his own people.
The fire had been allowed to die down, and Rob meant to let it go out. To shut the glow from their eyes he had made use of a rude screen doubtless intended for this very purpose by Uncle George.
An hour, perhaps several, passed away. Then Rob felt some one clawing at his arm, after which a low whisper sounded close to his ear. It was Andy, and he had something to communicate that was quite enough to cause a thrill to shoot through the heart of the aroused scout master.