He sauntered once more to the river's brink, where a short distance
down stream could be seen the _Lebanon_, the family rowboat. Surely
the place did warrant the boy extravagant use of "a correct
adjective," and did look "adjectivey" away into the superlative.

Nat found just the spot for the tent, Roger and Joe were racing about
like little human greyhounds, intent upon the scent of fun, and
Dorothy took time to decide that perhaps this camp would prove as
delightful as she expected that one to be, whither, in a few days, she
must journey, and leave the dear home-folks, reluctantly, indeed. But
then boys' fun always seemed like their idea of Fourth of July--just
as noisy and just as unreliable. At the same time they always managed
to put it off with a roar, and this roar had already set in for the
Blanket Indians of "Cut-it-out-Camp."

Dorothy had promised her Aunt Winnie not to stay too long away from
her, as there were so many things to be discussed before the aunt and
her favorite niece should part for the summer. So that, now, Dorothy
was hurrying to finish up her part of the camp map, and go back to the
Cedars.

"We fellows must get a few good strong poles over there on the knoll,"
said Nat, "and I see no better time to get them than right now."

"Then I must go home," spoke Dorothy. "I have already overstayed my
leave of absence."

"Can you go back alone?" asked Ned. "If not, I'll cut the trees by
cutting out the work. See how well we have named the camp. It's in
working order already."