"Good night, everyone!" exclaimed Mr. Graham.
"Good night, sir," was the rejoinder from three very sleepy lads, and five minutes later silence reigned in the camp.
Almost before the sun had risen Hayes awoke, stretched himself, and got up. His companions were still sleeping soundly. Resisting the temptation to place a wet sponge on Jock Findlay's face, the Sea Scout went to a near-by brook and washed. Then, stirring the still-glowing embers of last night's fire and applying fresh fuel, he coaxed the dried wood into a healthy blaze.
"Isn't it fine!" he exclaimed to himself, as he stood erect, breathing in the pure moorland air and surveying the expanse of undulating ground terminated by the rugged heights of Brown Willy. "I never thought there was such a view. There ought to be some scheme for sending East Coast Scouts to camp in Cornwall, and give Cornish Scouts a chance to see the Essex mudflats. Now then, you sleepy bounders! Out you turn."
By the time the others had performed their ablutions, Hayes had the porridge under way. It hardly mattered that one kettle had to answer for all culinary purposes; that the porridge had a slight flavour of tea and that there were a few tea-leaves in it. Toned down with thick Cornish cream and a lavish quantity of golden syrup the porridge disappeared, and was pronounced excellent. Slices of streaky bacon grilled over the fire were devoured with gusto, notwithstanding particles of wood ash which adhered to the fat.
Breakfast over, the Sea Scouts struck camp. They did so methodically. The blankets, after being aired, were folded; the scanty gear cleaned and packed away. Then the cinders of the fire and all loose paper and refuse were buried, so that the owner of the land would have no cause for complaint.
"Now let me see your toe again, Desmond," said Mr. Graham.
Desmond felt none too happy as far as his injury was concerned. He sat down and removed the dressings.
"H'm," remarked the Scoutmaster. "A little better, but there's still a fair amount of inflammation. It's the puff-puff for you, my lad. It's as much as you can do to walk to the railway station."
Protesting ineffectually, the Patrol Leader was escorted into the town. At the station it was found that there was a train in an hour and a half's time.