CHAPTER IV
GO!
But remember, I told you that the hike didn’t really begin till we got to Catskill. The reason I don’t count the hike from Temple Camp to Catskill is because we were all the time hiking down there. It wasn’t a hike, it was a habit. I wouldn’t be particular about three or four miles. Besides, I wouldn’t ask you to take them, because they’ve been used before. I wouldn’t give you any second hand miles.
When we got to Catskill we bought some egg powder and bacon (gee, I love bacon) and coffee and sugar and camera films and mosquito dope and beans and flour and chocolate. You can make a dandy sandwich putting a slice of bacon between two slabs of chocolate. Mm-um! We had a pretty good bivouac outfit, because the Warner twins have a balloon silk shelter that rolls up so small you can almost put it in a fountain pen—that’s what Harry Donnelle said. Dorry Benton had his aluminum cooking set along, saucepans, cups, dishes, coffee pot—everything fits inside of everything else. One thing, we wouldn’t starve, that was sure, because we had enough stuff to make coffee and flapjacks for more than a week, counting six flapjacks to every fellow and fourteen to Hunt Manners; oh boy, but that fellow has some appetite! We had plenty of beans, too. Don’t you worry about our having plenty to eat.
When we got through shopping, we went to Warner’s Drug Store for sodas. Harry Donnelle said he’d treat us all, because maybe, those would be the last sodas that we’d ever have. As we came along we saw Mr. Warner standing in the doorway and he was smiling with a regular scout smile.
“There’s something wrong,” I said; “there’s some reason for him smiling like that.”
“Have a smile for everyone you meet,” Will Dawson began singing.
But, believe me, I know all the different kinds of smiles and there was something funny about Mr. Warner’s smile. When we got inside we saw a big sign hanging on the soda fountain. It read:
A LAST FAREWELL
TO THE SILVER PLATED FOXES
BEFORE THEY ENTER THE JUNGLE