Sandy came running up, and bent over the dead lynx. When the cat’s last struggles ceased, the boys hauled it into the firelight.
“I was scared half to death,” Sandy grinned sheepishly. “I was dreaming we were in Fort Good Faith with Uncle Walter and about a million wild Indians were whooping and shooting at the stockade.”
“You can bet your bottom dollar I didn’t feel so calm about the time that lynx came around the canoe and looked me in the eye,” Dick confessed. “I never took aim at all—just blazed away. Lucky shot I call it. I thought it was some one trying to steal our canoe.”
“What time is it?” Sandy inquired, getting up and stretching.
Dick drew out a fine watch which had been a graduation present. “Only ten o’clock,” he reported. “You can go back to bed, Sandy. My watch isn’t half done.”
The young adventurers talked a few minutes after Sandy was back in his blankets. But Sandy soon fell asleep. In spite of the excitement brought on by the killing of the lynx, Sandy was so tired that he went back to sleep almost immediately.
Dick looked down at the lynx. “He’s sure a beauty,” he whispered proudly. “I kind of wish I hadn’t killed him now. It’s a shame to kill animals when a fellow can’t use their fur or meat.”
He returned to his position in the shadow of the willows and sat there patiently until midnight, when it was time to awaken Sandy. The fire had died down and he heaped more wood on it. He never felt more wide awake in his life. Sandy was sleeping soundly.
“Sandy, you’re pretty tired,” Dick murmured, looking down at his chum, “and I feel just about as fresh as when we pitched camp. Guess I won’t wake you up—just let you sleep until morning.”
There was an affection like brotherhood between the two boys, who had been neighbors and chums from infancy up. And since Dick was two years older than Sandy, he often felt somewhat like an older brother would feel toward a younger. Perhaps this induced Dick to resume his watch without awakening Sandy.
When Dick sat down again he was sure he could stay awake all night, but the flicker of the firelight, the whispering silence of the forest, and the ripple of the river were like a pleasant lullaby. Before he knew it he was nodding, and presently he fell sound asleep. Head drooping over his knees, Dick slept unknowing, while the fire died down and the deep blackness of the northland night crept over the silent camp.