Hippy came in wet and dripping after caring for the ponies, with Hindenburg tucked safely under his coat.
"Reminds me of France," he exclaimed jovially. "Say, children, may my Hindenburg sleep in your quarters to-night? It will be warmer and more comfortable for him than in mine."
"No!" shouted the Overland girls.
"He may sleep in the attic," suggested Emma. "Otherwise, on the roof. Hippy, why do you keep that animal around? What is he good for except to eat and sleep?"
"Don't you malign my bull pup. He is a watch dog, the best ever, and—" Hippy's remaining words were lost in the shout of laughter that interrupted him.
"Oh, Hippy, you are a scream," exclaimed Grace. "You know very well that the only thing Hindenburg has watched since we started, is the food, and always he has watched for us to throw some of it to him. Yes, he is a wonderful watch dog."
All were now crowded into the lean-to, except Willy, who, after cooking the bear-meat, said "Bye," and went away.
Good-nights were said early that evening and all hands turned in after Mrs. Shafto had fed what was left of the supper to Henry. The bear had come in immediately after getting the odor of one of his relatives being cooked over the Overland Riders' campfire.
Rain roared on the bark roofs of the lean-tos all night long, but the girls, dry and cosy, slept the night through without once awakening, with Henry on guard out there sitting under a tree in a disconsolate attitude, now and then wearily licking the water from his coat. Hindenburg, more favored, slept cuddled between Lieutenant Wingate's feet.
The present camp, it was understood between the Overlanders and Tom Gray, was to be a permanent camp for some time to come, and it was here that some of the most exciting scenes of their journey through the Great North Woods were to be witnessed by them.