“Pull them out, fellows. I’ve brought along the chains and padlocks belonging to each boat. Having a canoe stolen isn’t such fun, even on a ten-mile lake like Camalot,” ventured Frank, as he produced the articles in question, and proceeded to fasten the canoes together, at the same time making sure they were chained to the sturdy root of a nearby tree.
“He thinks of everything,” admitted Will, in admiration.
“Don’t you believe it for one second. I forget many things; but as they said a wild man inhabited this bit of island, I wanted to make sure he did not run off with any of our boats, and perhaps our supplies.”
“All the same, it took your long head to think of such a thing, old chap. Now, I defy any one to hook our boats. Besides, we don’t mean to ever leave the camp unguarded; and I guess you expect to put up the tents close by here?” said Jerry.
“It looks good to me,” replied Frank, casting another glance at the little open spot close to the beach, which seemed an ideal place for a canoeist’s camp, having a splendid view of the lake, stretching almost ten miles away to the north.
The four were soon as busy as beavers.
They already knew how to erect the tents, which had a fly that could be lowered in front in severe weather, and a ground cloth of waterproof material, quite an addition to the comfort of the interior.
Jerry worked just as hard as the rest, although every now and then pretending to laugh at all this fuss, when a humble shack of branches ought to serve any fellow who called himself a true sportsman.
By the time the fireplace had been built of stones, over which several stout steel bars rested, upon which the cooking utensils would set, the Spring afternoon was drawing to a close.
“What will we have for our first supper?” Bluff asked; for he did not mean to let Jerry carry off all the honors in the cooking line this trip.