The fire was replenished, the dancing tongues of flame lighting up the surroundings with a fantastic glare. The Ramblers felt those peculiar sensations which come to nearly all amateur woodsmen, especially at night. Never before had the mysteries of nature, as well as the immensity of the star-studded heavens, appealed to their imaginations so vividly. Insects kept up an incessant chant, while from the woods issued numerous familiar voices.
They were far from any human habitation, in a wild region, seldom frequented by any one except an occasional sportsman. It seemed as if they were alone in the midst of a great solitude.
But suddenly a starlike point of light appeared in the distance, then another and another, until four, all moving in the most erratic fashion, advanced slowly toward them.
"What does that mean?" asked Tom Clifton.
The sound of voices reached their ears.
"The Trailers, as I live!" exclaimed Sam Randall. "Just listen to them."
There was no need of this advice. The Nimrods possessed lusty voices, and began using them to their fullest capacity. The result, while not harmonious, proved effective.
"Here come the mighty Nimrod boys
And pirates of the deep,
And every one will make a noise