he knew the country thoroughly which lay between his camp and the
river. Then he returned, not weary with his four hours' walking, but
very decidedly hungry.

Luckily, Bob Sharp's enthusiastic admiration for his leader had taken
a very prosaic and practical turn. It was Bob's turn to prepare
breakfast, and a hare was to be cooked. The boys wanted it cut up and
fried, but Bob remained firm.

"No, siree," he said, "Captain Sam's gone off to look out for us,
without waiting for his breakfast, and when he comes back he's to
have roast rabbit for breakfast, and his pick of the pieces at that.
If any of you boys want fried victuals you may go and kill your own
rabbits and fry them for yourselves, or you may cook your bacon. I
killed this game myself, and nobody shall eat a mouthful of it till
Captain Sam carves it."

The boys were hungry, but they agreed with Bob, when he thus
peremptorily suggested the propriety of awaiting their young leader's
return, and so when Sam got back, about ten o'clock, he found a hungry
company and a beautifully roasted hare awaiting him, the latter
hanging by a string to a branch of an over-hanging tree immediately in
front of the fire.

After remonstrating with the boys in a good natured way, for delaying
their breakfast so long, Sam carved, as Bob had put it; that is to say
he held the hare by a hind leg, while another boy held it by a fore
leg, and with their jack knives they quickly divided it into pieces,
using the skillet for a platter.