Before ten o'clock the tents were pitched, a roaring camp fire threw its comforting glow upon the scene, and the two patrols were discussing their hard-earned and frugal supper with commendable avidity that betokened a healthy mind in a healthy body.
"Now, lads," exclaimed the Scoutmaster, as soon as the meal was concluded, "we must turn in. It has been a long day for us, and I don't suppose the majority of you will sleep very soundly the first night under canvas. But no talking, mind. There is a time for everything, and if talking is kept up those who might otherwise be able to sleep will be disturbed. Good-night!"
CHAPTER VI
A SPOILT BREAKFAST
"Anyone awake?" enquired Mr Trematon softly, thrusting his head through the partially unlaced opening of the tent, where the eight "Otters" were lying like the spokes of a wheel, each lad's feet towards the tent-pole.
"I am, sir," replied Atherton and Green.
"Slip on your things and come out. I've a little job for you."
Without hesitation the two lads obeyed, and were soon blinking in the early morning sun. It was just after five o'clock—réveillé was to be at half-past six.
The air was keen and the dew still thick upon the short grass. The village of Polkerwyck was yet in shadow, for the sun had not risen sufficiently high to throw its slanting beams upon the deep-set hamlet. But already there were signs of activity, for several of the fishing boats that had been out all night had just returned and were landing their cargoes for conveyance to the nearest railway station. So still was the air that the reflections of the frowning cliffs and the deep browns of the tanned sails were faithfully reproduced in the placid water. The morning mist still lingered on the hill-tops, and drifted in ill-defined patches across the headlands that defined the limits of the bay.