THE RULE OF ORDER AND DISCIPLINE
When the boys were talking of retiring Asa Gardner, who had been
hovering near, approached Mr. Bartlett and Dick.
The former, of course, knew more or less about the strange lad whose
past had been of a character to make him unhappy. Dick had managed to
explain to both the young men who were in charge of the camp how Asa
was fighting his battle manfully, and consequently they sympathized
with the boy.
“Do you want to ask me anything, Asa?” inquired Mr. Bartlett, kindly.
“Just a little favor, sir,” came the hesitating reply, for Asa was
easily confused, realizing as he did that people looked on him in a
different way from what they did ordinary lads.
“Then don’t hold back,” urged the young man, “for you’ll always find
that both Mr. Rowland and myself are willing to accommodate any of you
when it can be done without disturbing the ordinary routine of the camp
too much.”
“It was only this, sir,” continued Asa. “According to the programme
mapped out by Mr. Rowland, and which he read to us, I’m selected to
sleep to-night in the cabin along with three other fellows.”
“And what objection do you have to that, Asa? I think Mr. Rowland
picked out those who were to occupy the cabin with a purpose in view,”
the camp leader remarked, kindly.
“I’m sure he did, sir, for he said as much,” Asa admitted. “But you
see it’s this way with me. I’ve been feeling a heap better ever since
I took to sleeping on that porch they enclosed with wire netting. It’s
been nearly a year now since I started to try that sort of thing, and
I’ve got so used to it I’m afraid I’d feel awfully choky and queer if I
tried to sleep in a room again.”
“I reckon there’s a whole lot in that, too, Asa,” said Dick, with a
quick glance at the camp leader, who nodded in approval. “I’ve heard
people say they couldn’t bear to go to bed inside four walls after
sleeping outdoors for a long time. They complain that it seems to
smother them.”
“Just so,” added Mr. Bartlett, “and I suppose that’s why gypsies
who used to come to Cliffwood trading horses and telling fortunes
said no winter’s storm could ever drive them to seek shelter in a
house-dweller’s place. I’ll make arrangements to have you exchange
places with one of the boys in a tent, Asa. And I’m glad you spoke of
it in time. Remember, both Mr. Rowland and I will be pleased to oblige
any of you boys when the request is as reasonable as yours.”
“I don’t suppose there’ll be any danger out here on this big island,
sir?” remarked Asa, a little uneasily, Dick noticed, as he glanced
around at the moonlit vicinity, and shivered.
“Oh! there’s very small chance that the island holds any wild animals
larger than raccoons and squirrels,” replied the camp leader.
“Besides, Asa,” Dick added, “you must remember that even a wildcat is
afraid of fire, and as a rule shuns the presence of human beings. The
chances are we’ll not be disturbed in any way while camping on Bass
Island.”
And so it came about that Asa found a place in one of the tents, where
he could make himself comfortable near the entrance, and breathe all
the free night air he wished.
Dick slept close to the opening of the tent he occupied in company
with three other campers. Mr. Bartlett had constituted him a sort of
assistant campmaster, to take charge whenever both he and the physical
instructor were absent. Besides this, everybody knew that Dick was
better acquainted with certain matters connected with outdoor life than
most of the other boys, since he had long made woodcraft a study.
Once, during that first night on the island, on awakening from a sound
sleep, Dick crawled softly out of the tent and took a look around. It
was a beautiful night, such as filled his boyish heart with delight.
The moon, almost full, was climbing up close to the zenith, and sent
down a flood of bright light on the slumbering world below. The soft
night breeze continued to whisper among the tops of the tall pine
trees. The gentle waves washed the rocky shore of the big island with a
soothing murmur never to be forgotten.
Just as the sun began to peep above the eastern horizon a gun was fired
and a bugle reveille followed immediately afterward. Those of the boys
who were not already up came dashing out of the tents and the cabin,
prepared to enter upon the duties of this, the first full day in camp.
They found both Mr. Bartlett and the physical instructor ready for
them, while Sunny Jim, who was never seen without a broad grin on his
face, had begun to bustle around amidst his pots and pans as though
making arrangements for starting breakfast.
“Every one in camp with the exception of our cook will be expected to
join in the programme for the early morning!” called out Mr. Rowland,
who was a splendidly built young man, the possessor of several medals
won in athletic matches. “The first of these will be the setting-up
exercises, to start your blood into full action, after which we will
have a dip in the lake.”
A number of the boys did not know the least thing about swimming, and
were more or less timid about entering the water. Mr. Rowland soon
gave them to understand there was nothing to be afraid of. He intended
that there should be no skylarking, no ducking, no horse-play among
themselves.
“We expect to have swimming classes,” he told them as they gathered
around at the edge of the water, clad in their bathing trunks only. “A
life saving crew will be organized, and no boy will be allowed to go
beyond certain bounds on penalty of having his privileges curtailed,
or even cut off altogether. There will be no accidents in the water at
Camp Russabaga if we can prevent it. Now listen while I lay down the
law, and then every one of you must enter the water.”
Three of the boys looked glum at hearing this talk. As may be easily
understood they were Nat Silmore and his two cronies, Dit Hennesy and
Alonzo Crane. They had finally decided to accompany the campers in the
hope of finding numerous chances to enjoy a joke at the expense of
their fellows. It appeared now as though they had deceived themselves
and had made a great mistake, and this realization caused them to look
“sour,” as some of the boys expressed it, understanding what was the
matter with the trio of tricksters.
The flag was already flying in the morning breeze, and it really looked
as if the camp had been inaugurated after the customary manner. All
over our land similar camps organized by enthusiastic members of the
numerous Y. M. C. A. organizations are being conducted along the same
lines. Some of these are run during the entire summer, detachments of
young fellows coming and going from time to time, and all benefiting
greatly through their brief stay in the open, under strict and sanitary
rules.
Sunny Jim had been bustling around preparing breakfast. With that broad
smile on his ebony face he looked as though he meant to do his part
toward making the camp a success. The boys knew him very well, since
Sunny Jim had been a character in Cliffwood for many years. They were
also aware of his reputation as a first-class cook, and anticipated
being treated to many a sumptuous feast while they were in camp.
Some of the boys dressed more rapidly than others, and among the clever
ones were Dick, Peg Fosdick and Dan Fenwick. Peg, having a notion that
he would like to learn all he could about camp cooking as practised by
an experienced man like Sunny Jim, hovered around the fire, watching
and offering to assist whenever he saw the chance.
Breakfast was almost ready, and some of the other boys could be
seen thrusting their heads out from the tents to sniff eagerly the
delightful odors that permeated the camp.
It was just at this time that Peg, who had been looking around and
asking hurried questions of the colored cook, was heard to call aloud
indignantly:
“Say, I just want to know who’s gone and hid away that new aluminum
frying-pan I brought along. I borrowed it from our cook at home just
because it was so big and nice and shiny, as well as light. I carefully
put it on this nail here, and Jim says he never once touched it, yet
you can see it’s gone. Did anybody glimpse a sign of it around?”
“Here, who’s started to playing tricks in this camp so early?” called
Dan Fenwick, indignantly. “My nickel watch was in my vest pocket when
I undressed, but it’s disappeared like smoke. Mr. Bartlett, make the
fellow own up who took it, won’t you please?”