Half of the fellows didn't wash at all, and all we Scouts were allowed to do was to wash our faces, with a lick and a promise, at the creek, under guard. We missed our morning cold wet rub. The camp hadn't been policed, and seemed dirtier than ever. Tin cans were scattered about, and pieces of bacon and of other stuff, and there was nothing sanitary or regular. Our flags were dusty and wrinkled; and that hurt. The only thing homelike was Apache and Sally, our burros, grazing on weeds and grass near the camp. But they didn't notice us particularly. We didn't have anything more to say. The fellows began to smoke cigarettes and pipes as soon as they were up, and made the fire and cooked some bacon and fried some potatoes, and we all ate, with the flies buzzing around. A dirty camp attracts flies, and the flies stepped in all sorts of stuff and then stepped in our food and on us, too. Whew! Ugh! We would have liked to make a smoke signal, to let Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson know where we were, but there seemed no way. They would be starting out after us, according to instructions, and we didn't want them to be captured. We knew that they would be coming, because they were Scouts and Scouts obey orders. They can be depended upon. I guess it was ten o'clock before we were through the messy breakfast, and then most of the gang went off fishing and fooling around. "Aren't you going to untie our feet?" asked the general. "Do you give us your promise not to skip?" answered Bill. "We'll give our parole till twelve o'clock." We knew what the general was planning. By twelve o'clock something might happen--the other Scouts might be near, then, and we wanted to be free to help them.-- "Will you give us your parole if we tie your feet, loose, instead of your hands?" "Yes," said the general; and Fitzpatrick and I nodded. Jiminy, we didn't want our hands tied, on this hot day. So they hobbled our feet, and tethered us to a tree. They tied the knots tight--knot after knot; and then they went off laughing, but they left Walt and Bat to watch us! That wasn't fair. It broke our parole for us, really, for they hadn't accepted it under the conditions we had offered it. (Note 36.) "Don't you fellows get to monkeying, now," warned Bat, "or we'll tie you tighter. If you skip we've got your burros and your flags." That was so. "We know that," replied the general, meekly; but I could see that he was boiling, inside. It was awful stupid, just sitting, with those two fellows watching. Bat wore his big revolver, and Walt had his shotgun. They smoked their bad-smelling pipes, and played with an old deck of cards. Camping doesn't seem to amount to much with some fellows, except as a place to be dirty in and to smoke and play cards. They might as well be in town. "Shall we escape?" I signed to the general. (Note 37.) "No," he signed back. "Wait till twelve o'clock." He was going to keep our word, even if we did have a right to break it.