midnight
The `` dodgers '' were the familiar flapjacks . Herb set down his stick as he spoke to turn a batch of them , which were steaming on the frying-pan , tossing them high in air as he did so , with a dexterous turn of his wrist . The boys having performed hasty ablutions in the stream , devoted themselves to their breakfast with a hearty will . There was little leisure for discussing the midnight visit of the lynx , or for anything but the joys of satisfying hunger , and taking in nutrition for the day 's tramp , as Herb was in a hurry to break camp , and start on for Katahdin . The morning was very calm ; there seemed no chance of a wind springing up , so the evening would probably be a choice one for moose-calling . In half an hour the band was again on the march , the business of breaking camp being a swift one . The tent was on Herb 's shoulders ; and naught was left to mark the visit of man to the humming stream but a bed of withering boughs on which the lynx might sleep to-night , and a few dying embers which the guide had thrashed out with his feet .