"At that time, you know, Frank, I hadn't caught on to this wild animal photography business. What wonderful pictures I could have taken then if only I'd known the racket. It keeps growing on me all the while, too. Right now I expect I get more of a thrill when I'm snapping off the picture of a bull moose bellowing his defiance to the guide's call, than you would with your rifle at your shoulder ready for a shot."
"I reckon you do, Will, for I can understand what you feel. I really believe that if you hadn't gone in for the game I'd have picked it up myself. But one photographic crank in the party is enough; some of us have to stick to the gun in order to supply the meat for the camp when the season is on."
Frank had been persuaded by Will's logic, and he continued to push on, though constantly keeping track of conditions. He did not wish to have to confess sooner or later that he was lost, which would not be so impossible a thing to happen in that dense wood.
It was while they were making their way along in this fashion toward the middle of the afternoon, that, without the slightest warning, there came a loud and angry crash of thunder; and looking up in a startled way they saw inky black clouds gathering overhead.
CHAPTER XII
CAUGHT IN THE STORM
"Why Frank! What does this mean?" exclaimed the astonished Will, as he stared first at his chum, and then up past the lofty tops of the forest trees to where those inky thunder-caps were thrusting their ugly noses into sight.
"Simply that we've been caught napping for once," replied the other, with an expression of mingled amusement and disgust on his face; for such a thing did not happen very often in the experience of a wide-awake fellow like Frank Langdon.