It was now quite dark, and we had some difficulty in groping our way back to camp. There was no moon and the stars were obscured by clouds. Our only course was to follow the shore line until we got around the bend, and then we steered for the beacon fire, which, by prearrangement, had been kindled on Point Lookout. But the spirit of mischief was in us. We thought we would have some fun with Dutchy. We could see him silhouetted against the blaze. Jim and I hung back in the canoes, while Reddy and Bill went on with the scow, splashing their oars and shouting and singing in disguised voices, like drunken men. Dutchy was evidently very much agitated. His "Hello, there! Boat ahoy!" was greeted with derisive yells.

Fig. 145. A Joke on Dutchy.

"Say, we'll lick the life out of you, the same as we did them other kids," shouted Reddy.

This was too much for Dutchy. He ran for all he was worth, yelling for Jack to come quick.

We had a merry laugh over the situation when suddenly the tables were turned. Something whizzed past Bill's ear; I was stung on the arm with a heavy nail; a large stone hit the scow; Reddy had his hat knocked off, and Fred upset his canoe trying to duck out of reach of the invisible missiles before we could make our assailants understand that we were friends and not the tramps. The joke was on us after all. We hadn't counted on Dutchy's accurate aim or Jack's skill with the crossbow.