THE FIRST CAMP
The fire was taken in hand first thing, for Chippy would need a great
pile of red-hot embers for his cookery. The hanger was littered with
dry sticks, so that there was no lack of material, and soon they had a
rousing fire crackling on the sandy soil.
At the foot of the hanger they met with a stroke of luck. They found a
young beech-tree which had been blown down in some winter storm. It
was now as dry as a bone and easy cutting, and Dick went to work with
the little axe, and soon cut and split a heap of logs some eight or ten
inches long and three or four inches through--first-rate stuff, for no
tree in the wood burns more sweetly than beech. While the fire was
under way, and while Dick hacked at the beech, Chippy had gone in
search of clay. He was gone soms time, for he did not hit on a clayey
spot at once. But he worked along the bank of the stream where the
wash of the water had laid bare the nature of the soil until he struck
upon a seam of red clay, and dug out a mass with his knife and the
point of his staff.
He brought the clay to the fire, and next fetched a billy of water from
the river, and worked the clay into a mass which would spread like
stiff butter. Now he took the hedgehog, opened it, and removed its
inside. Then he began to wrap it in a thick covering of the clay.
'Aren't you going to skin it?' cried Dick, who had been watching his
brother scout's doings with deep interest.
'I am,' said Chippy, 'but not now--leastways, it'll skin itself when
the time comes.'
Soon Chippy held in his hands a great ball of clay, inside which the
hedgehog lay like a kernel in a nut. The fury of the fire had passed
by now, and the small beech logs were heaped in a glowing mass of fiery
embers. With a spare log Chippy drew the embers aside, and laid his
ball of clay on the heated ground, and raked the ashes into place again.
'Now,' said he, 'when we're ready for supper, that theer 'ull be ready
for us.'
'It doesn't look as if our supper was going to cost us much,' laughed
Dick. Chippy looked up with his dry, quiet smile.
'As it's runnin' so cheap,' he said, 'we might goo in for suthin'
extra. Wot d'yer say to a drop o' milk in the tea?'
'Where are we going to get it?' cried Dick.
'When I was down theer'--and Chippy jerked his head towards the
river--'I seen a house acrost the fields. If ye'll turn me up a copper
ot o' the cash-box I'll tek' a billy an' buy a pennorth.'
Dick laughed and turned out a penny, and away went Chippy after the
milk, while Dick watched the fire and the haversacks they had piled
beside it.
While Chippy was away an old man came up-stream whipping it with a
fly-rod. The time of the evening rise was coming on, but very few
circles broke the surface of the smoothly running river. Dick went
over and asked him what luck he had had.
'Only two, an' them little uns,' said the old man. 'You see, this is a
free stretch for about a couple o' miles, an' it gets fished a lot too
much. There are some in it, an' big uns too, but they'm too wide awake
to tek' the fly.'
When Chippy came back Dick reported this. 'Not much chance for you,
old chap,' said Dick; 'the old fellow had got a good fly-rod and fine
gut, and he could do little or nothing, so it isn't likely we shall get
trout for breakfast in the morning.'
But Chippy's calm was quite undisturbed. 'Said as there wor' some
about, an' big uns too, did he?' remarked the Raven. 'That's good
enough fer me. Shouldn't wonder but wot I'll yank one or two on 'em
out yet.'
He set the billy down beside the fire, and Dick cried out in wonder.
'By Jingo, Chippy, what a jolly lot of milk! You made that penny go a
tremendous long way. You must have dropped across a good sort.'
'Just wot I did,' rejoined the Raven--'a stout old lady, with a heart
to match the size of her waist;' and he flipped the penny back at the
treasurer.
'And you've brought the penny back!' cried Dick.
'Wouldn't tek' it nohow,' replied the other; 'said I was kindly
welcome.'
'Why, we needn't make any tea,' said Dick.
'Just wot I thought,' remarked his companion; 'that's tea an' sugar
saved at a bang. Bread, milk, an' 'edgehog ought to fill us out aw'
right this time. Now, what about gettin' the bed ready afore we have
supper? After supper I may be busy for a bit.'
'Right you are,' said Dick; and they turned to their first attempt of
making a scout's bed.
The farther end of the hanger was composed of a thick growth of
larch-trees, and here there had been a fall of timber in the winter.
Two or three lots of logs had not yet been carried away, and the two
scouts chose four logs of fairly suitable length for the framework of
their couch, and pegged them into position. They could soon have
chopped the logs to the right length, but they did not do so, for that
would have been damaging other people's property, and no scout acts in
such a way as to raise difficulties for those who may come after him.
When the woodmen had felled the larches they had stripped off the
branches and cut away the plumy tops with their axes, and heaps of
branches and tops lay about among the remaining trees. With axe and
knife the scouts cut great armfuls of the tips and carried them to the
framework. Here they laid them to overlap each other like the slates
on a roof, as Mr. Elliott had shown them, and within an hour they had a
dry, springy bed, upon which they flung themselves, and rolled in
delight and kicked up their heels for a minute or two.
'One little job agen before supper,' said Chippy, 'but it'll only be a
short un. I want two or three minnows, an' I saw a place wheer they
wor' swimmin' in hundreds.'
The scouts ran down to the river, and Chippy pointed to a shallow where
a great shoal of the tiny fish were glancing to and fro, their sides
glittering as they turned in the light of the setting sun. Chippy
throw himself flat on the bank, and very slowly and cautiously slipped
his hand into the water. The minnows darted away, but soon returned,
and the scout, with a swift, dexterous scoop, tossed a couple high and
dry on the bank, where Dick secured them. A second attempt only landed
one, but it was a good-sized one, and Chippy sprang to his feet.
'I reckon three 'ull be enough for now, an' we ain't supposed to catch
more'n we can use. That's in the books. Got 'em safe?'
'Safe and sound,' replied Dick. 'But we can't eat these tiny things,
Chippy.'
'Not likely,' said the Raven, 'but they'll make first-rate bait: that's
wot I'm arter. Now for supper.'
'I'm ready,' said Dick. 'I'm as hungry as a wolf.'
'Right thing for one o' your patrol,' chuckled Chippy, and the boys
laughed as they raced back to their camp.
Chippy opened the heap of ashes and drew out the ball of clay. Very
carefully he broke the clay open and disclosed the white flesh of the
hedgehog, cooked to a turn, and smelling deliciously.
'Where'e the skin?' cried Dick; 'and I say, how good it smells!'
'Skin's stuck fast in the clay wi' the prickles,' replied the Raven.
'Cut some chunks o' bread while I get it out.'
Dick took the loaf and cut some good slices with his knife, while his
comrade dexterously divided the hedgehog into handy pieces. Then they
sat about their fire and made a glorious supper. The bread was good,
the milk was sweet, the hedgehog's flesh was tender and toothsome.
Dick forgot all about his first dislike as he ate his share and
applauded Chippy's skill and cookery.