“It was havin’ this paper along,” said Adam, “that put it into my head to try baked fish for supper.” Having dressed the fish, Adam rolled it in the brown paper, and pushing away a portion of the fire, he scooped out a place in the warm sand and ashes, and covered up the fish therein. Then the fire was built up again, and was allowed to blaze away until Adam thought his fish was done. When the brown paper was removed, the skin of the blue-fish came off with it, leaving the white flesh perfectly baked and temptingly hot. There was salt and pepper among their rations, and with the fish and the bread and butter and biscuits, the boys and Adam made a splendid meal, although they had nothing to drink with it but the water from their canteens. “The way to make a tip-top meal off of fish,” said Chap, “is to catch it yourself--or else let some other fellow do it.” [Illustration] CHAPTER V. CHAP’S ALLIGATOR. The preparations for the night were very simple. Adam, whose previous experience in camping and rough life had made him think, before leaving the steamer, of a good many little things that might be useful on a journey such as the one proposed, had brought with him a long, thin rope, something like a clothes-line. “There’s nothin’ like havin’ plenty of line along,” he said, as he fastened one end of this to a low branch of a tree. “It always comes in useful. I’m goin’ to hang the tarpaulin on this, and make a tent of it.” “The rope is long enough,” said Phœnix. “Yes,” said Adam; “but you can’t have a rope too long. The nearest tree that ’twould do to tie it to might be a hundred feet away, don’t you see?” There was a suitable tree, however, not a dozen feet from the one just mentioned, and to a low branch of this Adam made his line fast, tying it in a slip-knot, and coiling the slack rope on the ground. This proceeding was made the text of another sermon from the prudent sailor. “Never cut a line, if you can help it,” he said. “Use what you want, and coil away the slack. The time will come when you’ll want the longest line you can get.” The tarpaulin was thrown over the low rope, and its edges held out by cords and pegs, which Adam had prepared while the supper was being cooked. “It’ll be pretty close quarters,” he said, looking into the little tent, “but you fellers can squeeze into it, and I can sleep outside as well as not. The sand is as dry as a chip, and if you put on your overcoats, and take your carpet-bags for pillows, you’ll be just as comfortable as if you was at home in your feather beds.” “A good deal more so, I should think,” said Phil, “in mild weather like this.” The boys would not allow Adam to sleep outside. As the tarpaulin was arranged, if there was room enough for three, there was room enough for four. The tent was open at both ends, and they lay in pairs, with their feet inside and their heads near the open ends, so as to get plenty of air.