leave the coffee pot within reach of Dave's cot, however, along with some
fried strips of bacon, bread and butter and a couple of boiled eggs, so
that the injured man did not have to hobble about to get his own
breakfast.

Dave dashed a cup of water over his hands and splashed a little in his
face by way of performing his toilet and then sitting on the edge of his
cot, proceeded to devour what was before him eagerly, for, although his
foot was injured, his appetite was entirely healthy.

"Um--m--m that was good," he muttered as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve
and looked down at his bandaged foot.

"Now if my old kick was in good order I'd go for a long tramp with a gun
but--Ah,--ouch--still sore and swollen. Guess I won't be able to hobble
about for a couple of days yet," he reflected as he felt of the injured
member.

Then steadying himself on the edge of the cot with the assistance of a
cane that Jack cut for him three days before, he hobbled to the tent
doorway and looked out.

"Jove, what a corking day! It's a shame I had to get laid up right at
the beginning of the trip. But I'll be all right in a couple of days and
I suppose I can stand it as long as my books hold out. But, blame it
all, look at this camp. Jack and Bart are the sloppiest fellows I ever
saw. Look at the blankets on the ground again and the papers scattered
everywhere. And look at the big fire they've left. What for, I wonder?
I wish I could get out there and clean up the place. I'll speak to them
to-night. I don't think such conditions are sanitary. I--I--ouch, blast
it, I can't clean up the place," and with a look of disgust the man from
Boston limped over to his camp chair and picked up the book that had held
his interest the day before.

How long he had been reading he did not know; perhaps an hour, perhaps
two. But suddenly he was aroused by a strange, unnatural cracking sound.
He looked up with a start, and his eyes dilated with horror at what he saw.

There, not ten feet from him, creeping and writhing through the dried
grass and leaves and darting long yellow tongues toward him menacingly,
wormed a streak of fire.

It was like a serpent that had crawled out of the embers and sought to
catch him unawares. Slowly it moved forward, fanned by the fall breeze
until it was a big V extending across the camp clearing, with each arm
burning.

On it advanced, licking up everything in its path. Here it consumed a
leaf, there