Springing to his feet, he dashed to the scene of the conflict--for such it seemed to be though not without a heart that beat rather faster than usual.

He bad no idea what the creatures could be that were producing all the uproar, and for all he knew they might have been bears.
Behind him came Walter, rather pale, but determined to do his best as a Boy Scout to fight off any wild beasts that might be attacking the camp.

As he dashed behind the tent, however, Hiram was impelled to give a loud laugh.

The contestants--for he had rightly judged they were in high dispute--were two small black pigs which had looted a bag of oatmeal from under the flap of the store tent and were busily engaged in fighting over their spoils.
"Get out, you brutes! Scat!" shouted the boy, bringing down a long-handled spoon he carried over the backs of the disputants.
The spoon, being almost red-hot, the clamor of the porkers redoubled, and with indignant squeals and grumblings they dashed off into the dense growth of scrub oak and pine that covered the island in its interior.

At the same moment the captain, who had been taking a snooze under some small bushes, awoke with a start.
"Eh--eh--eh! What's all that ?" he exclaimed, hearing the yells.