Chapter IX: The Rule of Order and Discipline

When the boys were talking of retiring Asa Gardner, who had been hovering near, approached Mr. Bartlett and Dick.

The former, of course, knew more or less about the strange lad whose past had been of a character to make him unhappy. Dick had managed to explain to both the young men who were in charge of the camp how Asa was fighting his battle manfully, and consequently they sympathized with the boy.

“Do you want to ask me anything, Asa?” inquired Mr. Bartlett, kindly.

“Just a little favor, sir,” came the hesitating reply, for Asa was easily confused, realizing as he did that people looked on him in a different way from what they did ordinary lads.

“Then don’t hold back,” urged the young man, “for you’ll always find that both Mr. Rowland and myself are willing to accommodate any of you when it can be done without disturbing the ordinary routine of the camp too much.”

“It was only this, sir,” continued Asa. “According to the programme mapped out by Mr. Rowland, and which he read to us, I’m selected to sleep to-night in the cabin along with three other fellows.”

“And what objection do you have to that, Asa? I think Mr. Rowland picked out those who were to occupy the cabin with a purpose in view,” the camp leader remarked, kindly.

“I’m sure he did, sir, for he said as much,” Asa admitted. “But you see it’s this way with me. I’ve been feeling a heap better ever since I took to sleeping on that porch they enclosed with wire netting. It’s been nearly a year now since I started to try that sort of thing, and I’ve got so used to it I’m afraid I’d feel awfully choky and queer if I tried to sleep in a room again.”

“I reckon there’s a whole lot in that, too, Asa,” said Dick, with a quick glance at the camp leader, who nodded in approval. “I’ve heard people say they couldn’t bear to go to bed inside four walls after sleeping outdoors for a long time. They complain that it seems to smother them.”

“Just so,” added Mr. Bartlett, “and I suppose that’s why gypsies who used to come to Cliffwood trading horses and telling fortunes said no winter’s storm could ever drive them to seek shelter in a house-dweller’s place. I’ll make arrangements to have you exchange places with one of the boys in a tent, Asa. And I’m glad you spoke of it in time. Remember, both Mr. Rowland and I will be pleased to oblige any of you boys when the request is as reasonable as yours.”

“I don’t suppose there’ll be any danger out here on this big island, sir?” remarked Asa, a little uneasily, Dick noticed, as he glanced around at the moonlit vicinity, and shivered.

“Oh! there’s very small chance that the island holds any wild animals larger than raccoons and squirrels,” replied the camp leader.

“Besides, Asa,” Dick added, “you must remember that even a wildcat is afraid of fire, and as a rule shuns the presence of human beings. The chances are we’ll not be disturbed in any way while camping on Bass Island.”

And so it came about that Asa found a place in one of the tents, where he could make himself comfortable near the entrance, and breathe all the free night air he wished.

Dick slept close to the opening of the tent he occupied in company with three other campers. Mr. Bartlett had constituted him a sort of assistant campmaster, to take charge whenever both he and the physical instructor were absent. Besides this, everybody knew that Dick was better acquainted with certain matters connected with outdoor life than most of the other boys, since he had long made woodcraft a study.

Once, during that first night on the island, on awakening from a sound sleep, Dick crawled softly out of the tent and took a look around. It was a beautiful night, such as filled his boyish heart with delight.

The moon, almost full, was climbing up close to the zenith, and sent down a flood of bright light on the slumbering world below. The soft night breeze continued to whisper among the tops of the tall pine trees. The gentle waves washed the rocky shore of the big island with a soothing murmur never to be forgotten.

Just as the sun began to peep above the eastern horizon a gun was fired and a bugle reveille followed immediately afterward. Those of the boys who were not already up came dashing out of the tents and the cabin, prepared to enter upon the duties of this, the first full day in camp.

They found both Mr. Bartlett and the physical instructor ready for them, while Sunny Jim, who was never seen without a broad grin on his face, had begun to bustle around amidst his pots and pans as though making arrangements for starting breakfast.

“Every one in camp with the exception of our cook will be expected to join in the programme for the early morning!” called out Mr. Rowland, who was a splendidly built young man, the possessor of several medals won in athletic matches. “The first of these will be the setting-up exercises, to start your blood into full action, after which we will have a dip in the lake.”

A number of the boys did not know the least thing about swimming, and were more or less timid about entering the water. Mr. Rowland soon gave them to understand there was nothing to be afraid of. He intended that there should be no skylarking, no ducking, no horse-play among themselves.

“We expect to have swimming classes,” he told them as they gathered around at the edge of the water, clad in their bathing trunks only. “A life saving crew will be organized, and no boy will be allowed to go beyond certain bounds on penalty of having his privileges curtailed, or even cut off altogether. There will be no accidents in the water at Camp Russabaga if we can prevent it. Now listen while I lay down the law, and then every one of you must enter the water.”

Three of the boys looked glum at hearing this talk. As may be easily understood they were Nat Silmore and his two cronies, Dit Hennesy and Alonzo Crane. They had finally decided to accompany the campers in the hope of finding numerous chances to enjoy a joke at the expense of their fellows. It appeared now as though they had deceived themselves and had made a great mistake, and this realization caused them to look “sour,” as some of the boys expressed it, understanding what was the matter with the trio of tricksters.

The flag was already flying in the morning breeze, and it really looked as if the camp had been inaugurated after the customary manner. All over our land similar camps organized by enthusiastic members of the numerous Y. M. C. A. organizations are being conducted along the same lines. Some of these are run during the entire summer, detachments of young fellows coming and going from time to time, and all benefiting greatly through their brief stay in the open, under strict and sanitary rules.

Sunny Jim had been bustling around preparing breakfast. With that broad smile on his ebony face he looked as though he meant to do his part toward making the camp a success. The boys knew him very well, since Sunny Jim had been a character in Cliffwood for many years. They were also aware of his reputation as a first-class cook, and anticipated being treated to many a sumptuous feast while they were in camp.

Some of the boys dressed more rapidly than others, and among the clever ones were Dick, Peg Fosdick and Dan Fenwick. Peg, having a notion that he would like to learn all he could about camp cooking as practised by an experienced man like Sunny Jim, hovered around the fire, watching and offering to assist whenever he saw the chance.

Breakfast was almost ready, and some of the other boys could be seen thrusting their heads out from the tents to sniff eagerly the delightful odors that permeated the camp.

It was just at this time that Peg, who had been looking around and asking hurried questions of the colored cook, was heard to call aloud indignantly:

“Say, I just want to know who’s gone and hid away that new aluminum frying-pan I brought along. I borrowed it from our cook at home just because it was so big and nice and shiny, as well as light. I carefully put it on this nail here, and Jim says he never once touched it, yet you can see it’s gone. Did anybody glimpse a sign of it around?”

“Here, who’s started to playing tricks in this camp so early?” called Dan Fenwick, indignantly. “My nickel watch was in my vest pocket when I undressed, but it’s disappeared like smoke. Mr. Bartlett, make the fellow own up who took it, won’t you please?”