once more been put on their heads."

"Don't be dreaming of wolves and pounce on me again, as you did when
dreaming of bears," laughed Bob.

"Yes, to bed, to bed, now," cried Mr. Waterman. "I'm sure we all need
the rest, for we have had a great day."

They all agreed with him and were soon warm and cozy in their sleeping
bags, sleeping as only tired men can sleep out of doors. The fire died
down, the greenness of the nearby branches became gray and then black
and were finally merged into the blackness of the surrounding woods, and
not a sound told that here under God's own canopy slept human beings
enjoying nature as the primeval men of old did.

CHAPTER X

MOCCASINS AS FOOD

Pud made good the next morning, for when Bill woke him he got up at
once, plunged into the lake for an eye opener, and was ready with rod
and line as soon as Bill. They were soon out on the lake and Bill made
at once for the trout hole that he had spotted the night before. They
had remarkably good luck and returned in time for breakfast with
twenty-five fine trout. These they cleaned and handed to Jack, who soon
had them sizzling on the fire and ready for breakfast. Bob and Mr.
Waterman had also gone fishing. They did not return until Jack's cheery
"Halloo!" brought they in scurrying. After breakfast they divided into
parties. Bob and Mr. Waterman elected to go hunting partridges, while
the others said that they would go fishing. Bob and Mr. Waterman were
soon off. Arriving at the far end of the lake, they left their canoes
and were soon lost in the depths of the forest. For some time they went
along, but at last Mr. Waterman noted a partridge, and with a clever
shot it was his. They wandered around, climbed a mountain and
incidentally got three more birds, two of which Bob had the good fortune
to bag.

"Well, we'd best be going," said Mr. Waterman. "Lead the way."

Bob said nothing, but started off confidently. Mr. Waterman followed on
for a few minutes. He then asked,

"Let's see your compass, Bob."

Bob felt in his pocket, but did not find it there. He then remembered
that he had left it in his sleeping bag. He was compelled to confess as
much to Mr. Waterman.

"That's bad dope, Bob," said Mr. Waterman. "You should never leave camp
without your compass nor without first noting carefully in which
direction you are going."

"I know that," said Bob. "I just forgot it."

"Which direction did we take this morning?" queried Mr.