“Well, what’s the use of our staying up longer?” Max finally announced in an authoritative fashion, after Steve had almost jerked his neck awry for about the seventh time, with one of those spasmodic movements.  “Our blankets are calling to us, boys; let’s turn in.”

There was no negative vote recorded, for every one seemed ready to call it a day, and quit.  Max took it upon himself to look after the fire.  Plenty of wood had been gathered to last until morning, and then some; for, as the night air was beginning to feel pretty sharp, it was concluded to keep the fire going.

“I’ll look out for that part,” said Max.  “I generally wake up just so many times during the night when I’m in camp, and it’s no trouble for me to crawl out and toss another stick on the fire.  So forget it, fellows, will you?”

Apparently the others took him at his word, for not another sign of any of them was seen while night lasted.  Once they snuggled down in their warm comfortable blankets, they must have become “dead to the world,” as Steve aptly termed it.

Several times while the night held sway a figure would crawl noiselessly out of the crude brush shanty shelter, and place another lot of wood upon the dwindling fire, thus keeping it going for another spell of several hours.  Of course this was Max, who really liked to take an observation concerning the state of the weather, note the changed positions of the heavenly bodies, so that he could figure on the passage of time; and then once more creep into the folds of his blanket to again fall into a deep sleep.

So the night passed.

Nothing occurred to disturb its serenity.  The little four-footed woods folks doubtless prowled all around the boys’ camp, eyeing the glimmering fire with wonder and distrust, for it could not be a familiar sight to any of them, since mankind seldom visited this inaccessible region so far removed from the track of ordinary travel.  Some of the more daring among them, venturesome ’coons or ’possums perhaps, may even have invaded the precincts of the charmed circle, searching with their keen little noses for traces of castaway food; but, if so, their presence did not disturb the sleepers within that shelter.

So morning came on apace, and presently from the brush shanty one after another of the fellows came creeping forth, to stretch and yawn and finally hasten their dressing, for the frosty air nipped fingers and toes quite lustily.

They were in no particular hurry, and breakfast therefore was undertaken in the best of humor, with plenty of time given to its preparation.  Everybody seemed to be in the best of humors, and his good sleep must have smoothed even the spirit of the fretful Bandy-legs, for he no longer grumbled or found fault.  Perhaps, as so frequently happened, he was secretly ashamed of having shown such a suspicious and argumentative disposition on the preceding evening, and meant to make amends for it by an unusually cheery manner.