"Have a heart!" said Roy. "I could never pick that out with a flashlight."
"A what? Ye won't hev no light o' no sort, not ef I know it."
The boys laughed. "Well, I see we're up against the real thing," said Roy, "but if that's a thoroughfare, I'd like to see a trail—that's all."
"Ye don' need ter see it," drawled Jeb. "Ye jest feel it."
"You must have a pretty good sense of touch," said Roy.
"Ye don' feel it with your hands, youngster, ye jest sense it."
"Good night!" said Roy.
Tom said nothing. He had been watching Mr. Rushmore and hanging with rapt attention on his every word.
They found the hill on the opposite shore not as steep as it had looked from across the water, and here at its base, in the dim solitude by the shore, was Temple Camp. There was a large open pavilion built of untrimmed wood, which would accommodate eight or ten troops, allowing to each some measure of privacy and there were as many as a dozen log cabins, some large enough for two or three patrols, others intended evidently to accommodate but one. There was a shack for the storage of provisions and equipment, in which the boys saw among other things piles upon piles of wooden platters.
"Not much dishwashing here," said Pee-wee, joyfully.