BILL THOMPSON’S TENT.
Hardly had the boys ceased to talk of their grand hunt when they were
thrown into the greatest excitement by news which Bill Thompson had
called them together to impart. This is what he said, when at least a
dozen were present behind the same barn that had been ornamented with
the skin of Tip’s victim:
“Fellers, my father has jest brought home a great big tent――a reg’lar
canvas one――an’ he says we may take it, an’ all go off campin’ for a
week. What do you think of that?”
For some moments it was impossible to learn just what the boys did
think of it, for they all attempted to talk at once, and some, who
could not speak as loud as the others, began to cheer, until Tip――who,
of course, had been called into council with the others――barked loudly
at the confusion of sound. Although Bill knew that his companions were
almost beside themselves with joy at the news, it was fully ten minutes
before the noise had subsided sufficiently for him to learn that fact
from their words.
Bobby Tucker was positive he and Tim would be allowed to go with the
party, because his father had told them they might enjoy themselves in
their own way until the summer term of school began, and the majority
of those present were equally certain they could go. Those who had
any doubts on the matter started off at once to gain the desired
permission, and in a short time it was decided that just an even
dozen――eleven boys and Tip――would make up the party. Then the serious
work began.
It was necessary to decide where they should go, how they were to get
there, and how a supply of provisions could be obtained.
Bobby Tucker was sure he could get a bushel of potatoes as his share,
and a large piece of pork as Tim’s. Bill Thompson owned three of the
hens in his father’s flock, one of which he agreed to carry, in order
that at least one “big” dinner might be served, and he also agreed to
get three dozen of eggs. Jimmy Newcomb, whose father kept a store, was
certain he could get a large supply of crackers and a small supply of
candy. Another of the party promised butter, pepper, and salt; another
agreed, in the name of his mother, to have some gingerbread and pies;
and so the list of provisions was made up, thus settling the last
question first.
Where the camp should be pitched was a more difficult matter to decide.
Some were in favor of going in the same direction as that taken on
the bear-hunt; but this was voted down at once by Bill Thompson, who,
because he was the party furnishing the tent, had great weight in the
discussion.
“We want to go ’way off where we can’t get back for a good while,” he
said, decidedly. “An’, besides, we must go where nobody lives, so’s we
can find more bears for Tip.”
Then another of the party suggested getting a horse and cart, and going
as far into the interior of the island as possible; but this Bill
objected to, on the ground that they would then be obliged to follow
some road, which would still keep them within the range of civilization.
“Can’t we get a boat, an’ go way round to the other side of the island,
where nobody lives?” asked Tim.
“That’s the very thing,” said Bill, decisively――“that’s the very thing,
an’ Jimmy Newcomb can get the one his father keeps at Dunham’s wharf.”
All three of the questions having thus been settled, the boys went over
to Bill Thompson’s to view the tent which was to afford them their
highest idea of enjoyment. It was found to be quite large enough to
shelter the entire party, being fully twelve feet square, and complete
in everything save pegs and stakes, which could easily be made before
starting, or after they should arrive on the spot where it was to be
pitched.
It was some time before the boys had gazed sufficiently upon this
canvas house, so wonderfully come into their possession, and they would
probably have spent more time in admiration of it, had there not been
some little doubt as to whether Jimmy Newcomb’s father had the same
idea regarding the loan of his boat as his son.
It was thought best to have an interview with Mr. Newcomb at once, and
the entire party marched down the village to a point almost opposite
the store, and waited there while Jimmy went in to ask the important
question.
He remained inside so long that every boy’s face commenced to grow
sad, for each moment he was there seemed to tell that he was not
succeeding in the project.
“I guess his father won’t let him have it, an’ he’s stayin’ there to
coax,” said Bill, sadly; but he had hardly spoken when Jimmy appeared.
He could not wait until he crossed the street before he imparted the
joyful news, but waved his hat even while he stood on the threshold of
the door, and shouted, at the highest squeak of his voice:
“It’s all right, boys; we can have her as long as we want, if we’re
careful not to get her stove up.”
In the twinkling of an eye every one of those boys had started at full
speed toward Dunham’s wharf, that they might look at the craft which
was to carry them on their journey. They had all seen the boat at least
a hundred times before, but now that she was theirs for a while she
seemed like a new one.
Since the boat was ready, and the tent nearly complete for pitching,
Bill Thompson proposed that each one should spend that day getting
ready for the trip. The time set for the start was seven o’clock on the
following morning, and every one was expected to be on hand promptly
at that hour. Tim, Bobby, and Bill promised to make the tent pegs and
stakes, and it was decided that, if any important question should come
up meanwhile, they should meet behind Bobby Tucker’s barn that night to
discuss it.
With this agreement the conference broke up, and during the remainder
of that day, when any of the townspeople saw a boy running at full
speed, or staggering under a load of bed-clothing, they knew he was one
of the party who were going out camping for a week.
It would not be surprising if the mothers of those boys lost their
temper several times during the following ten hours, so numerous were
their wants, and such vague ideas did they have as to the amount of
provisions necessary for a week’s stay in the woods. But, greatly to
the delight of both the boys and their parents, the day came to a
close, as all days will, and a very happy party met in the rear of Mr.
Tucker’s barn.
Each one had secured the articles promised, while some had been able to
do even more. Bobby had found a flag, rather the worse for wear, to be
sure, but still showing enough of the Stars and Stripes to allow one to
see what it had been, and this was looked upon as the crowning triumph
of all.
Tim, Bobby, and Bill had worked hard at the tent pegs, but had made
only about half the required number. This, however, was not considered
important, since the remainder could be made after they arrived at the
camping-place.
When the party broke up that night it was with the understanding that
each one would be at the boat as early as possible, and it was hard
work for any of them to get to sleep that night. But nearly all of them
were up and dressed before the sun had any idea that it was time for
him to show his face in the east.
It was hardly half-past six when everything, from the tent to Bill
Thompson’s live hen, was in the boat, packed snugly. The flag was
raised at the stern of a thin slab of drift-wood, held in place by
Jimmy Newcomb, who was given the position of helmsman, owing to the
fact that his father owned the boat. The remainder of the party were to
take turns at rowing, and when the boat was pushed away from the shore,
four oars were worked as vigorously as the boys at the end of them knew
how.
[Illustration: MAKING READY TO EMBARK]
Bill Thompson started a song, in which all joined; Tip barked until
there was danger that he would become hopelessly hoarse; and the old
hen cackled and scolded, as if she knew just what her fate was to be.
There was only one settlement on Minchin’s Island, and it was the
plan of the party to row around the coast until they reached a point
as nearly opposite the village as possible. The distance was fully ten
miles; but no one thought the labor would be too great if, by dint of
hard rowing, they could reach a place that was uninhabited, and each
was ready to take his turn at the oar whenever another was tired.
Now, Bill Thompson was a great stickler for discipline; and although
he had said nothing about it when the details of the voyage were under
discussion, he had a plan which he began to carry into execution as
soon as the journey was fairly commenced.
“Now, we’ve got to do this thing right,” he said, as he braced himself
in the bow, where he could have a view of all hands. “We must choose
different ones to do different things, so’s we’ll know what we’re
about. We’ve got to have cooks, an’ I nom’nate Tim Babbige an’ Bobby
Tucker to take care of the victuals an’ do the cookin’.”
Bill paused, as if for some one to second the proposition, and Jimmy
Newcomb said――not very properly, to be sure, according to the rules
laid down for the election of gentlemen to office, but still quite
emphatically enough to show he meant it――
“That settles it;” and Tim and Bobby were considered elected to the
responsible offices of cooks and guardians of the food.
“Now, I go in for makin’ Jimmy Newcomb captain of the ship, an’ he must
boss the job when we’re out on a trip, an’ when we’re landin’.”
This time Tim, being already one of the most important officers of the
expedition, considering it necessary to assist in the election of some
of the others, said, quickly:
“That’s jest the thing.”
After Bill had appointed certain of the boys to cut wood and bring
water, he said, with just a shade of hesitation in his voice, as if he
was troubled with bashfulness:
“Now somebody’s got to be captain of the huntin’, an’ if you boys are
willin’ I’ll do that; an’ whatever kind of wild animals we scare up, I
promise to be the first one to rush in an’ cut their throats after Tip
has caught ’em.”
This was considered as a sort of oath of office, and each member of
the party made some sign of agreement in Bill’s self-election, feeling
perfectly satisfied that he should fill what was looked upon as a
dangerous position.
After they had rowed at least three hours, different members of the
crew insisted that they must have gone entirely around the island, and
were then proceeding toward home; but Jimmy quickly put a stop to any
grumbling. Both he and Bill knew when they were about opposite the
village, for they had been there several times with Captain Thompson,
and they were both equally positive that they had yet some miles to go
before gaining the extreme end of the island.
It was about eleven o’clock, and nearly every boy was tired out with
his work at the oar, when Jimmy ordered them to stop rowing, and
pointed inshore.
The view which presented itself was a lovely one. Two points of rock
projected some distance into the sea, forming a little harbor, at the
head of which was a smooth, shelving beach of sand. Just back of the
beach was a dense grove of pine-trees, and through them led a narrow
path, now so covered with vines and weeds as to show it had not been
used, by man at least, for some time.
Jim had no need to ask what his companions thought of camping there,
for each one appeared delighted with it, and the boat was headed for
the beach.
Bill Thompson was the first to leap ashore, and, though he was only the
chief huntsman, he assumed full charge of the expedition, so far as
landing and setting up the tent were concerned.
A cleared spot in the grove about fifty yards from the beach was
selected as the site of the tent, and they then wished that the pegs
had all been made before they started, for the canvas could not be put
up till that was done. Bill and two others set about this important
work, while Tim and Bobby bustled around to get something to eat, and
Jim made sure the boat was anchored securely.
The first thing done by the two cooks was to tie Bill’s hen by her leg
to a tree, and then it was found necessary to fasten Tip some distance
from her, since he showed a decided inclination to treat her as he had
the woodchuck.
Then the more skilful work of building the fireplace was begun, and
this Tim took charge of, while Bobby unpacked the kettle and spider,
got the potatoes ready for cooking and made himself generally useful.
Tim made rather a good job of the fireplace, and after he had finished
it to his satisfaction he cut three forked sticks, on which to hang
the kettle, but immediately afterward found that they had forgotten
to bring a chain, and would be obliged to suspend the pot by a rope,
thereby running some risk of its burning.
Meanwhile the wood and water carriers had done their part of the work,
and the cooks found plenty of material close at hand for beginning
their culinary operations. The potatoes were put on to boil, and,
thanks to the generous fire underneath them, gave promise of speedily
being ready to do their allotted duty in the dinner which the hungry
boys were anxiously expecting.
Bill had finished making his tent pegs, and by the time Tim had
succeeded in hanging the kettle the tent was up, needing only the
delicate operation of setting the stakes properly to make it a large
and habitable dwelling.