Jack took the boat in closer to the shore. On seeing the proposed landing place at closer quarters all of them seemed to be of the same opinion. It looked like just the camping ground they were looking for. A fire might be built for cooking purposes, and the district seemed lonely enough to make it appear that they might not be disturbed during their short stay of a single night.
On the following morning they expected to be once more on the move down the long and sinuous stream that covered hundreds of miles before emptying its clear water into the Black Sea.
As soon as the landing was effected Buster waddled clumsily ashore.
“I hope somebody will have the kindness now to get that blaze started right away,” he was saying; “I’d do it myself, but I’m afraid all the matches I had in my pocket must have been soaked, and they wouldn’t light easy.”
“I’ll take care of the fire, and do the cooking tonight in the bargain if you want me to, Buster,” Josh told him.
“That’s kind of you, Josh, and I won’t forget it in a hurry, either. Fact is this arm of mine pains a little too much for me to sling the pots and skillets around in my customary way. But fry me two eggs, remember, Josh; I’d say three if nobody kicked up any sort of a row.”
“You shall have them, Buster,” Josh told him; “because the chances are we can pick up as many as we want as we go along.”
“But no fish for supper tonight, how’s that?” George demanded, trying to frown at Buster.
“Oh, well, nobody really promised you any,” the latter explained. “But if there are any fat grubs in some of those rotten stumps around here I’m meaning to have a line out with three hooks to-night, and mebbe, George, you can indulge in fresh fish for breakfast. Will that do?”
“Guess I’ll have to make it; besides, ham and eggs suits my taste well enough this time. I’ll forgive you, Buster, only be careful not to get our mouths watering for fish again when it’s only a floating log you’ve caught.”