Will gave a whoop and immediately vanished again inside the tent. He had
not gone to rescue any of his clothes, nor did he even think of getting
into them; but when he reappeared it was with his camera hugged tightly
in his arms.
Meanwhile the others had set to work with a vim. There was fortunately
no wind, so that the fire had burned sluggishly. Then again the late
storm had wet the dead leaves then on the ground, and they had not as yet
become thoroughly dry, so it took quite some time for them to get over
smouldering, and burst into a vigorous flame.
"We're getting it down, fellows; keep right along hitting it hard!"
called Frank, cheerily.
Even old Toby had appeared from under the fly where he slept. He had been
dreadfully scared at first, doubtless under the impression that the mate
to the dead bob-cat had invaded the camp, intent on revenge. This feeling
soon gave way to the desire to see the camp saved, and he labored
faithfully with the rest.
Scattering the smouldering leaves, beating out the fire with any sort of
thing they could snatch up in their excitement, they managed to get the
flames under control after a little while.
It had been a most exciting experience, however.
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