"And those are tree frogs croaking close by?" continued Owen, who knew all about these things from reading; while his cousin did the same through practical experience.
"They're calling for more rain!" chuckled Max; "but I hope the old fellow up above, who turns on the sprinkler when he takes a notion, don't pay any attention, because rain in camp is generally a nasty time."
Once more the two boys lapsed into silence.
Perhaps another half hour had passed when Owen, whose eyes were getting very heavy, so that he found himself nodding, felt something touch his arm.
He started violently, possibly under the impression that some snake or wild animal from the woods had reached them unawares.
"H-s-sh!"
Why, to be sure, it was Max who hissed this warning in his ear. And, of course, it must be his cousin's hand that was laid on his own arm.
"Look!"
The one word proved sufficient to make Owen remember what they were lying there for. Accordingly he craned his neck so as to see the interior of the tent.
The fire was burning fairly well, and as Max had fastened the canvas flaps unusually far back, in order to admit plenty of air, as he had said at the time, it was easy to see.