It's keep your lungs and conscience clean,
your body spick and span;
It's 'shoulders squared,' and 'be prepared,'
and always 'play the man':
Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er!
Hurrah! Hurrah! For we're the B. S. A.!
Hurrah! Hurrah! We're ready, night and day!
You'll find us in the city street and on the open way!
Shouting the Boy Scouts forev-er!"

But at the beginning of the second verse Major Henry suddenly quit and
sat down upon a log, where the trail wound through some timber. "I've
got to stop a minute, boys," he gasped. "Go ahead. I'll catch up with
you."

But of course we didn't. His face was white and wet, his lips were
pressed tight as he breathed hard through his nose, and he doubled
forward.

"What's the matter?"

"I seem to have a regular dickens of a stomach-ache," he grunted.
"Almost makes me sick."

That was serious, when Major Henry gave in this way. We remembered that
back on the trail when we had sighted Sally he had spoken of a
"side-ache" and had sent Fitzpatrick to do the reconnoitering; but he
had not spoken of it again and here we had been traveling fast with
never a whimper from him. We had supposed that his side-ache was done.
Instead, it had been getting worse.

"Maybe you'd better lie flat," suggested Red Fox Scout Ward. "Or try
lying on your side."

"I'll be all right in a minute," insisted the major.

"We can all move off the trail, and have breakfast," proposed Fitz.
"That will give him a chance to rest. We ought to have something to eat,
anyway."

So we moved back from the trail, around a bend of the creek. The major
could scarcely walk, he was so doubled over with cramps; Scout Ward and
I stayed by to help him. But there was not much that we could do, in
such a case. He leaned on us some, and that was all.

He tried lying on his side, while we unpacked Sally; and then we got him
upon a blanket, with a roll for a pillow. Red Fox Scout Van Sant hustled
to the creek with a cup, and fixed up a dose.

"Here," he said to the major, "swallow this."

"What is it?"

"Ginger. It ought to fix you out."

So it ought. The major swallowed it--and it was so hot it made the tears
come into his eyes. In a moment he thought that he did feel better, and
we were glad. We went ahead with breakfast, but he didn't eat anything,
which was wise. A crampy stomach won't digest food and then you are
worse.

We didn't hurry