"It would be dandy to have a little plunge in those breakers," said Dick. "How about you, Fritz?"
"Yah, I suppose it would, but I bet it's cold," replied the German, rubbing his eyes.
"Can we go along with you men?" asked Dick.
"I'll see about it," answered one, walking toward the officers' tents.
He returned in a moment with a favorable reply, and in a jiffy the boys were racing down the sands with the first group of men.
After an invigorating plunge in the cold waves, the boys dressed and returned to the camp. All there were astir by now, and the two prisoners were conducted to the centre of the encampment and left in charge of two soldiers. Various groups were assembled about their respective fires, and all were eagerly hastening the preparation of their morning meal. From each group certain ones were despatched into the surrounding forest to gather a liberal supply of firewood, while others measured out portions of coffee, flour and bacon.
The cooks fussed importantly over the fires, ordering the men about in tones they would not dare to use when away from their important positions. At meal times the cooks of a camp are always the autocrats.
Dick and Fritz sniffed the air hungrily and thanked fortune that at least they would not be starved to death.
"There doesn't seem to be any hope of escape just now, does there?" said Dick.