"So say we all," remarked Frank; "for it will chase the blues away many a time, just to see the look on Uncle Toby's face, as he clung to that friendly limb."

"Gorry, but I was mighty glad tuh git my claws on dat limb, Ma.r.s.e Frank.

Wen I seed dem big yaller eyes a-starin' at me, an' heerd dat yowlin'

noise, my knees dey jest wobbled together. Nevah could tell how I got up dar; reckons as how you say am jest de truf, an' I _flew_!" exclaimed the cook, able to laugh now at his adventure.

They turned in early, for their rest had been broken on the preceding night, and both the hunters were leg weary.

The last sound Frank remembered hearing was the mournful hooting of the owls. The birds seemed to have a favorite roosting-place not far away, and from time to time the tremulous sound of their calling drifted through s.p.a.ce.

Just how long he slept Frank did not exactly know. He awoke with a sneeze, and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"What's the matter?" exclaimed Jerry, also starting out of a sound sleep.

"I don't know--why, the tent's full of smoke! The camp must be on fire!

Wake up, everybody!"

As the two lads came crawling out of the canvas they were startled to discover a heavy pall of smoke rising all around them.

CHAPTER XII

THE TELL-TALE MATCH-SAFE

"Wake up! wake up!"

Both Frank and Jerry shouted at the top of their strong voices. The others came tumbling into view, and loud were their expressions of dismay at the terrible sight that met their eyes.

"Get busy here, every one! Water wanted, and never mind your clothes!"

Even while he was speaking Frank jumped into action. The night air struck home, and made him shiver, for he had just tumbled out from between the snug folds of his blanket; but this was a time when delay might mean the complete wiping out of the camp.

Will gave a whoop and immediately vanished again inside the tent. He had not gone to rescue any of his clothes, nor did he even think of getting into them; but when he reappeared it was with his camera hugged tightly in his arms.

Meanwhile the others had set to work with a vim. There was fortunately no wind, so that the fire had burned sluggishly. Then again the late storm had wet the dead leaves then on the ground, and they had not as yet become thoroughly dry, so it took quite some time for them to get over smouldering, and burst into a vigorous flame.

"We're getting it down, fellows; keep right along hitting it hard!"

called Frank, cheerily.

Even old Toby had appeared from under the fly where he slept. He had been dreadfully scared at first, doubtless under the impression that the mate to the dead bob-cat had invaded the camp, intent on revenge. This feeling soon gave way to the desire to see the camp saved, and he labored faithfully with the rest.

Scattering the smouldering leaves, beating out the fire with any sort of thing they could s.n.a.t.c.h up in their excitement, they managed to get the flames under control after a little while.

It had been a most exciting experience, however. Bluff was swinging his blanket vigorously, and thrashing the fire with it effectively; though he might later on have some difficulty in getting rid of the smudges that this process necessarily produced.

"Victory!" shouted Jerry, when the last vestige of the fire had gone under.

Bluff threw his blanket around his shoulders and strutted about with the air of a conqueror;

"They have to get up early in the morning if they expect to beat us,'' he said, proudly.

"Talk about your hot times, that was a scorcher!" cried Jerry.

"But I'm beginning to shiver now all right; and I advise every one to crawl into his clothes in a hurry. Then we can talk it over. It's a mighty suspicious thing, that's what," remarked Frank.

They were only too glad to take his advice, and shortly after the four gathered around the revived campfire to exchange opinions.

They were a pretty s.m.u.tty-looking crowd; but Jerry declared that those marks were medals of honor.

"Now, if we had all been like Will here, and each rushed for his possessions, the camp would have been a-goner," he remarked, with a reproachful look.

"That's all right, fellows, and under any other conditions I would have been one of the first to a.s.sist; but I'm the official photographer of the expedition, and the guardian of those splendid films that must perpetuate our camping trip, for posterity," he explained.

"Hear! hear!" cried Frank.

"Why didn't you lay the outfit down at a safe distance then, and help fight the fire with us?" demanded Bluff.

"I guess I know enough to take warning from your sad experience. They hooked your old gun; the next thing they'll be after will be my camera.

No, sir, I hang on to that business through thick and thin. They'll have to chloroform me to get my films away, and that's so."

"Was it an accident?" asked Bluff, looking to Frank for an opinion.

"What do you think, Jerry?" demanded the leader.

"It couldn't have been an accident, and I'm dead sure of it," was the reply.

"Suppose you state your reasons then."

"First, we banked the fire down as usual before crawling into bed. Then there wasn't a particle of wind to scatter the sparks. And last, but not least, those heaps of dead leaves were carried here! I happen to know that place was just about bare last evening!" replied the other, seriously.

Will uttered an exclamation of wonder and alarm.

"Do you really mean to say that some fellows would be mean enough to try and burn our camp?" he asked.

"I wouldn't put it past that Andy Lasher. Talk to me about your heathen!

he's just about equal to any of 'em. But don't you agree with me, Frank?"

"Certainly I do, because I happen to have a strong bit of evidence which I picked up out there close to the burning leaves."

He held something up.

"A match-box!" exclaimed Will.

"Do any of you own that?"

"Pa.s.s it around. I never saw it before," declared Jerry, as he handled the little silver article in which several matches still remained.