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With Pack and Paddle in the Pine Woods
CHAPTER I
THE UNWELCOME VISITOR IN CAMP
“Wake up everybody! Boarders ahoy! Hey! something’s after our grub! Hurry up, or we’ll be cleaned out!”
There was an upheaval of blankets in the lone tent that stood on the bank of a Michigan stream; then three boys came crawling every-which-way out, without more than a hazy idea as to what they were doing.
But at any rate, all of them seemed to know where their guns lay, for every fellow gripped one in his hands as he emerged in this manner from the interior of the khaki colored tent, made so by some waterproofing tanning process.
“What is it, Dolph?” demanded the first to arrive on the heels of the boy who had shouted the alarm, and whose name was Dolph Bradley.
“It jumped back, Teddy, when I poked my head out; and I think made up in that pine yonder,” came the quick response, as the aforesaid Dolph pointed with his gun.