“Hold on!  Start even!” said Sam, seeing that Guy was prepared to shoot.

So all drew together, standing in a row like an old picture of the battle of Crecy.  The arrows scattered about the Woodchuck.  Most went much too far, none went near because he was closer than they had supposed, but he scuttled away into his hole, there, no doubt, to plan a new trap for the man with the mower.

VII

Campercraft

“How’d you sleep, Sam?”

“Didn’t sleep a durn bit.”

“Neither did I. I was shivering all night.  I got up an’ put the spare blanket on, but it didn’t do any good.”

“Wonder if there was a chills-and-fever fog or something?”

“How’d you find it, Sappy?”

“All right.”

“Didn’t smell any fog?”

“Nope.”

The next night it was even worse.  Guy slept placidly, if noisily, but Sam and Yan tumbled about and shivered for hours.  In the morning at dawn Sam sat up.

“Well, I tell you this is no joke.  Fun’s fun, but if I am going to have the shivers every night I’m going home while I’m able.”

Yan said nothing.  He was very glum.  He felt much as Sam did, but was less ready to give up the outing.

Their blues were nearly dispelled when the warm sun came up, but still they dreaded the coming night.

“Wonder what it is,” said Little Beaver.

“’Pears to me powerful like chills and fever and then again it don’t.  Maybe we drink too much swamp water.  I believe we’re p’isoned with Guy’s cooking.”

“More like getting scurvy from too much meat.  Let’s ask Caleb.”

Caleb came around that afternoon or they would have gone after him.  He heard Yan’s story in silence, then, “Have ye sunned your blankets sense ye came?”

“No.”

Caleb went into the teepee, felt the blankets, then grunted:  “H-m!  Jest so.  They’re nigh soppin’.  You turn in night after night an’ sweat an’ sweat in them blankets an’ wonder why they’re damp.  Hain’t you seen your ma air the blankets every day at home?  Every Injun squaw knows that much, an’ every other day at least she gives the blankets a sun roast for three hours in the middle of the day, or, failing that, dries them at the fire.  Dry out your blankets and you won’t have no more chills.”

The boys set about it at once, and that night they experienced again the sweet, warm sleep of healthy youth.

There was another lesson they had to learn in campercraft.  The Mosquitoes were always more or less of a plague.  At night they forced the boys into the teepee, but they soon learned to smudge the insects with a wad of green grass on the hot fire.  This they would throw on at sundown, then go outside, closing the teepee tight and eat supper around the cooking fire.  After that was over they would cautiously open the teepee to find the grass all gone and the fire low,