He unrolled his coat, and spread it on the ground with the lining upwards. Upon the lining he made a heap of flour, and formed a hole in the centre with his hand. Into this hole he poured hot water from the billy, and added a little salt and baking-powder. Then he mixed the whole well together, kneading and working it with his hands, the latter sprinkled with flour to prevent the dough from sticking to his fingers. Finally he had a couple of flat buns or cakes of dough. In the meantime Chippy had been getting the fire ready. A good pile of red-hot wood ashes had gathered in the centre of the burning sticks. When the dough was ready these ashes were swept aside, and the cakes laid on the hot earth. Then the ashes were piled round the cakes, and they were left to bake. When the chupatties were nearly baked, the billy was boiled up again, and some tea and a handful of sugar thrown into it. Dick had cut a long skewer of wood to try the cakes, and he now pronounced them done. They were taken from the ashes and set to cool, while each scout fished a tin mug out of his haversack. Soon they were seated at their first meal, a thousand times more happy than any two kings. CHAPTER XXIX WINNING A SUPPER While they ate the chupatties with the relish gained by their morning's tramp, and washed them down with steaming hot tea, they looked over the map which Dick had spread between them. 'Here we are,' said Dick, putting his finger on the very cartway itself, which was clearly shown in the capital map. Chippy nodded. 'Lemme see,' murmured the latter. 'Wot's the best way to head arter this?' The two scouts were steering clear of all high-roads and beaten tracks. They were both agreed that there was no fun in tramping along under telegraph wires and in the dust of motor-cars. Anyone could find his way where there was a row of milestones and finger-posts to keep him straight. They were marching purely by the map, following byways and narrow, hidden country lanes, and unfrequented tracks which led by moor and heath and common. There was another immense advantage, too, in moving by such routes. Not merely was it excellent scouting practice, but it afforded them quiet places for camping. It is not easy to camp along a high-road: there are too many people about. No sooner does the smoke of the evening fire begin to rise than a squad of village loungers turn up to watch the preparations, or perhaps, worse still, someone in authority arrives, and forbids the campers to halt in that spot. 'Lemme see,' murmured Chippy again. 'Here's a river; that's about seven mile again, as fur as I can mek' out.' Dick measured the distance. 'Just about seven miles,' he said. 'Wot d'yer say to campin' pretty handy to it to-night?' went on Chippy. 'So that you can try your hand on the fish, eh?' laughed Dick. Chippy nodded.