"Isn't it frightful?" added Tommy Clifton. "I'm going to lie down close to the fire, and go to sleep anyway."
He threw himself upon the ground, followed by the disgusted Dave Brandon, and the two were fast asleep in a moment. The rest, however, after several vain attempts, gave it up. Now and then one arose, threw on a stick, and then resumed his seat by the fire-side to gaze through half-closed eyelids at the tongues of flame and dancing sparks.
The night was overcast, and outside of the circle of light nature was wrapped in impenetrable blackness.
"We certainly were stung in this place," remarked Bob, with a sorry attempt at humor. He frantically slapped his wrists and face, then, unable to endure the onslaught in quietness, rose to his feet and began pacing back and forth.
Nodding and blinking, the boys presented a queer picture in the glare of the fire-light.
Finally Kirk Talbot joined Bob.
"Bears and wildcats!" exclaimed the latter, suddenly clutching his companion's arm. "Hear that? Steamboat down there, sure as guns."
"Great Scott! Wonder who can be nosing around at this time of night. Nat, hello Nat, do you hear that?" cried Bob, excitedly.
"Eh?" muttered the chief "pirate," drowsily. "What?"
"Wake up, wake up! A boat's close in shore. You can hear the engine puffing."