“Or it might rain or snow,” added Hamp.
“It won’t do either,” asserted Jerry, “but I’m not so positive about the catamount. It will be only prudent to repair the roof to-night. Come, fellows; it won’t take long.”
Jerry mounted the rock, and then climbed partly out on the roof. The others procured hatchets and started toward a copse of young timber that lay behind the cabin.
“You’ll need another prop or two, won’t you?” asked Hamp.
“Yes, one of these is broken,” Jerry replied. “Cut it thick.”
Hamp chose a likely sapling and began to hack at it. Brick struck in now and then. Upon the roof Jerry rearranged the disordered layers of pine and spruce boughs. The boys anticipated a quick completion of the work and then a much-needed sleep.
“Help! Help!”
The cry came from a pair of lusty and vigorous lungs. Their owner was evidently some distance out on the lake and directly opposite the camp.
Jerry sprang back to the rock, and thence to the ground, landing directly between his companions.
Again the appeal for help rang out, mingled with a blood-curdling screech. Then followed a hoarse, quavering noise that sounded only half human.