THE EXPLOSION IN CAMP.
“There’s one reason why I’m not particularly anxious to help put that fire out,” Joe remarked, as they approached the island, and could see that a really alarming fire was in progress.
“What’s that?” asked Harry.
“As near as I can calculate, there must be about two pounds—”
He was interrupted by a loud report from the island, and a shower of pebbles, sticks, and small articles—among which a shoe and a tin pail were recognized—shot into the air.
—“Of powder,” Joe continued, “in the flask. I thought it would blow up, and now that it’s all gone I don’t mind landing on the island.”
“Everything must be ruined!” exclaimed Jim.
“Lucky for us that we put on our shoes this morning,” Tom remarked, as he rowed steadily on. “That must have been one of my other pair that just went up. I remember I put them in the corner of the tent close by the powder.”
When they reached the island they could not at first land, on account of the heat of the flames; but they could plainly see that the tent and everything in it had been totally destroyed. After waiting for half an hour the fire burnt itself out, so that they could approach their dock and land on the smoking ash heap that an hour before had been such a beautiful, shady spot. There was hardly anything left that was of any use. A tin pan, a fork, and the hatchet were found uninjured; but all their clothing and other stores were either burnt to ashes or so badly scorched as to be useless. Quite overwhelmed by their disaster, the boys sat down and looked at one another.