would be equal to almost any emergency.

"Well, we might, under the same conditions," the former told him.

"Ain't the conditions the same," inquired Step Hen. "He was wrecked,
and so are we, you might call it."

"Yes, but there's no tree on this rocky island big enough to make into a
boat," Thad informed him.

"That's a fact, they do grow dwarf trees here," Step Hen admitted.

"And suppose there was, how could we ever chop one down with one little
camp hatchet, and hollow out the log?" Thad asked.

"Might take a year," acknowledged the other.

"We'd freeze to death here in the winter time, because it gets awful
cold, they say," Step Hen continued.

"Why, we could walk over the ice, and get ashore," Davy suggested.

"Guess the old lake don't freeze over solid any time; it's too big,
ain't it, Thad?" Giraffe went on to say.

"That's something I don't know," came the scout master's answer; "and
what's more to the point I don't care, because we'll never stay here
that long."

"Glad to know it," said Bumpus. "P'raps now our friends'll be looking