"I'll have every Eagle and Fox around us," Tim thought. "See! I'm the one who's spoiling things."
They started again. Don was sorry he had spoken so hastily. So far Tim had been a real partner. He made up his mind that he'd think twice before he spoke sharply again. You had to handle a fellow like Tim with gloves.
As for Tim, the hot, angry blood was still in his cheeks. What did Don mean by jumping on him? He wouldn't stand for it. He was to blame! How about Don being to blame for not answering the signal?
"Tim!" Don called from the rear. "How about making camp? It's getting late."
"Nothing doing," said Tim. "We're between blazes. In the morning we wouldn't know which way to start."
"We have compasses," said Don.
Tim was just stubborn enough to refuse to listen to reason. Besides, he felt that his judgment was questioned.
"We'll camp at the next blaze," he said. "Then we'll know where we are."
After a moment of hesitation Don followed. The easiest way was best.
They soon reached the blaze. Tim began to gather leaves and young twigs for his bed. Before long he knew that he had blundered again. It took time to make a camp bed properly, and the failing light would not give him the time. He had made camp too late.