blaze with his body and hands while Bumpus,
dropping the now useless gun, eagerly gathered a lot of dry pine
needles, and made a pile of them close to his chum.

"Oh! glory! Bully for you, Giraffe! You're the scout who can stick to a
thing like a plaster. Don't it look good, though?" cried the shorter
lad; but the fire-maker would not let him loiter.

Presently there was no longer any dread of the fire burning out; and
both of the scouts could get busy collecting fuel. Dead branches were in
demand, and fortunately enough, there happened to be plenty of the same
close by, so that without much effort they were able to get quite a heap
near the fire.

"Now let's sit down, and warm up a bit," suggested Bumpus; although
truth to tell, he was at that moment perspiring from his recent
exertions.

"And if you want to talk about eating _now_, Bumpus, you're quite
welcome," the taller scout went on to say, with a grin; "because there's
something to it. We've got the birds, and we've got the fire to cook 'em
by. Who said I couldn't start a fire by sawin' at my fiddle till I burst
a blood vessel? Wasn't it Davy Jones? Well, you c'n just tell him for
me, next time you see him, Bumpus, that he was all wrong. Why, it's just
as easy as fallin' off a log; er, that is, after you know how."

"Shall we start in plucking the feathers off these birds, Giraffe?"

"Might as well, if we mean to eat 'em; and speakin' for my own feelings
I want to say that a partridge'd go mighty well about now. Yum! yum! get
busy with one, and I'll tackle the other."

Both boys knew how to do the job of plucking the birds, and soon had the
feathers flying.

Both of them were feeling a thousand per cent better than before; and
Bumpus even hummed as he worked. Giraffe's thoughts very naturally kept
along the line of his recent triumph. He had labored so long, and
against such a handicap, that he might well be excused for feeling proud
of his success.

"Good little bow!" he muttered; "you did the business, all right, didn't
you? The trouble was, I didn't just know how to handle you; but I've got
it down pat now, and I'll never forget again, never. Wonder what the
boys'll say when they hear about it? And Bumpus, it came in right pat,
didn't it?"

"I should say it did, Giraffe," replied the other, enthusiastically;
"when we didn't have a single match, night here, cold as the dickens,
wolves howling pretty soon, and no way of cooking these plump
partridg