“You cuc-can’t see very well, anyhow,” reminded Springer. “One of your eyes is plumb buttoned up. You’re a spectacle.” “Yeou don’t have to tell me. Say, ain’t there nothing I can put on to stop the smarting? What are you all standin’ around for? Want to see me perish in horrible agony right before yeour eyes? Why don’t yeou do something?” It is always advisable for campers, when planning to spend some time in the woods, to include in their outfit a medicine case containing such simple remedies as may be needed; but, unfortunately, the Oakdale boys had failed to provide anything of the sort. Therefore they were now at a loss to know what could be done to alleviate Crane’s sufferings, but presently Grant thought of something, and, taking care not to attract the still whirling and whirring hornets, he went back into the shadows of the woods and procured two heaping handfuls of soft, moist earth, which, as well as possible, was presently bound or plastered upon Crane’s wounds. “Wait till I ketch that Dutchman!” Sile kept muttering through his set teeth. “Keep still,” advised Rod. “The bandage will hold those dirt poultices over your eye and behind your ear, but you’ll shake off the dabs I’ve stuck to your jaw and in other places, if you keep on talking.” So Sile relapsed into silence, save for an occasional bitter groan, and the others took into consideration the problem of getting rid of the hornets. “We’ll have to destroy the nest somehow,” said Rod, “for as long as that remains where it is those pests will give us trouble.” “We’ll find a way to fix them after breakfast,” said Stone. “As long as we don’t go near them and fail to attract their attention by our movements, there’s little probability that they will give us much annoyance.” “This cuc-camping expedition is certainly proving rather sus-strenuous and exciting,” observed Springer. For some reason Piper seemed to find it difficult to suppress a show of satisfaction, but this he tried to do, even though he could not forget with what glee his companions had joshed him about his unpleasant experience with the sleeping bag. Had Sleuth known that the victim of Carl Duckelstein’s “gougers” was responsible for that first night adventure, he must surely have regarded Crane’s misfortune as a piece of retributive justice. Unsuspecting, however, he refrained from gloating and pretended to commiserate with the wretched chap. With the fire replenished, Stone put on a kettle of water, and, while that was rising to the boiling point, he peeled and sliced some potatoes from the small supply they had brought. Bacon, fried out, provided fat in which to fry the sliced potatoes, and the salmon Crane had caught was put into the kettle to boil. There was a supply of bread left over from the loaves baked upon the previous day; and, for variety, Stone made hot chocolate instead of coffee.