Hindenburg was tied to a tree on a long leash so that he might not stray away, and the camp quickly settled down to slumber, a slumber that was uninterrupted until some time after sun-up, when the bull pup awakened them with his insistent barks.

Hindenburg wanted his breakfast.
They took their time in breakfasting, knowing that nothing was to be gained by haste in view of the fact that Joe Shafto would be engaged in ironing the family wash, and that they probably would not get started on their journey to the Big North Woods before the following day.
Stiffness of joints from the previous day's ride was soon forgotten in the crisp morning air and the flame of color of the foliage, for they were now entering a scattering growth of forest.

As they progressed, however, the trees were of larger and sturdier growth and the road became merely a wagon trail leading to the northward.
Luncheon was eaten by the roadside and the journey resumed immediately afterwards.

An hour later they came upon a clearing of about an acre, with a small space occupied by a garden in which stood a log cabin of comfortable dimensions.
"Grace, is this the place ?" called Tom Gray as they slowed down.
"I don't know, but it seems to answer the description." "Anybody living up here would need to be a guide or he never would be able to find his way home," declared Lieutenant Wingate.
"Hoo--oo!" hailed Emma.
After a few moments of waiting the Overlanders were gratified to see the cabin door open and a woman step out, shading her eyes with a hand.

She was tall, thin and angular, the thinness of her face accentuated by a pair of big horn-rimmed spectacles through which she glared at the newcomers.
"Who be ye ?" demanded the woman in a rasping voice.
"We are the Overland Riders, and we are looking for Joe Shafto's place," answered Grace pleasantly.
"I reckon ye ain't lookin' very hard," snapped back the woman.
"Is this Joe's place ?" interjected Tom Gray.
"It be, I reckon." "Is Joe at home?
I am Tom Gray.