A Scout of To-day Part 15

That stirring initiation meeting was the forerunner of others thereafter held weekly in the small town hall, when the members of the new patrol had their bodies developed, stiffened into manly erectness by a good drill and various rousing indoor games, while their minds were expanded by the practice of various new and exciting "stunts" as Leon called them.

To Starrie Chase the most interesting of these in which he soon became surprisingly proficient was the flag-signaling, transmitting or receiving a message to or from a brother scout stationed at the other end of the long hall. Spelling out such a message swiftly, letter by letter, with the two little red and white flags, according to either the semaph.o.r.e or American Morse code, had a splendid fascination for him.

More exciting still was it when on some dark fall evening, at the end of the Sat.u.r.day afternoon hike, he gathered with his brother scouts around a blazing camp-fire on the uplands, with the pale gray ribbon of the tidal river dimly unrolling itself beyond the low-lying marshes, and the scoutmaster would suggest that he should try some outdoor signaling to another scout stationed on a distant hillock, using torches, two red brands from the fire, one in each hand, instead of the regulation flags.

"Oh! but this is in-ter-est-ing; makes a fellow feel as if he were 'going some'!" Starrie would declare to himself in an ecstatic drawl, as, first his right arm, then his left, manipulated the rosy firebrands, while his keen eyes could barely discern the black silhouette of his brother Owl's figure on its distant mound, as he spelled out a brief message.

It certainly was "going." There was progress here: exciting progress.

Growth which made the excitement squeezed out of his former pranks seem tame and childish!

And more than one resident of the neighborhood--including Dave Baldwin's old mother, who lived alone in her shallow, baldfaced house, almost denuded of paint by the elements, at a bleak point where upland and salt-marsh met--drew a free breath and thanked G.o.d for a respite.

In addition to the indoor signaling there were talks on first-aid to the injured by the busy doctor and on seamanship by Captain Andy whose big voice had a storm-burr clinging to it in which, at exciting moments, an intent ear could almost catch the echo of the gale's roar, of raging seas, shrieking rigging and slatting sails--all the wild orchestra of the storm-king.

Then there were the Sat.u.r.day hikes, and once in a while the week-end camping-out in the woods from Friday evening to Sat.u.r.day night, whenever Scoutmaster Estey, Colin's much-admired brother, could obtain a forenoon holiday, in addition to the customary Sat.u.r.day afternoon, from the office where he worked as naval architect, or expert designer of fishing-vessels, in connection with a shipbuilding yard on the river.

A notable figure in relation to the scouts' outdoor life was Toiney Leduc, the French-Canadian farmhand. As time progressed he became an inseparable part of it.

For Harold, the abnormally timid boy, for whom it was hoped that the new movement would do much, was inseparable from him: Harold would not come to scout meeting or march on hike without Toiney, although with his brother Owls and their scoutmaster he was already beginning to emerge from his shadowy fears like a beetle from the grub.

In time he would no doubt fully realize what impotent bugaboos were his vague terrors, and would be reconciled to the world at large through the medium of the Owl Patrol.

Already there was such an improvement in his health and spirits that his grandfather raised Toiney's wages on condition that he would consent to work all the year round on the little farm-clearing, and no longer spend his winters at some loggers' camp, tree-felling, in the woods.

Moreover Old Man Greer, to whom the abnormal condition of his only grandson had been a sore trial, was willing and glad to spare Toiney's services as woodland guide to the boy scouts, including Harold, whenever they were required for a week-end excursion.

And so much did those eight scouts learn from this primitive woodsman, who could not command enough English to say "Boo!" straight, according to Leon, but who understood the language and track-prints of bird and animal as if they the shy ones had taught him, that by general pet.i.tion of all members of the new patrol, Toiney was elected a.s.sistant scoutmaster, and duly received his emblazoned certificate from headquarters.

His presence and songs lent a primitive charm to many a camp-fire gathering; no normal boy could feel temporarily dull in his company, for Toiney, besides being an expert in woodlore and a good trailer, was essentially a _bon enfant_, or jolly child, at heart, meeting every experience with the blithe faith that, somehow--somewhere--he would come out on top.

In the woods his songs were generally inaudible, locked up in his heart or throat, though occasionally they escaped to his lips which would move silently in a preliminary canter, then part to emit a gay bar or two, a joyous "Tra la la ... la!" or:--

"Rond', Rond', Rond', peti' pie pon' ton'!"

But on these occasions the strain rarely soared above a whisper and was promptly suspended lest it should startle any wild thing within hearing, while he led his boy scouts through the denser woods with the skill and stealth of the Indian whose wary blood mingled very slightly with the current in his veins.

Those were mighty moments for the young scoutmaster and members of the Owl Patrol when they "lay low," crouching breathlessly in some thicket, with Toiney, prostrate on his face and hands, a little in advance of them, his black eyes intent upon a fox-path, a mere shadow-track such as four of their number had seen on that first memorable day in the woods, where only the lightly trampled weeds or an occasional depression in some little bush told their a.s.sistant scoutmaster, whom nothing escaped, that some airy-footed animal was in the habit of pa.s.sing there from burrow to hunting-ground.

The waiting was sometimes long and the enforced silence irksome to youthful scouts; there were times when it oppressed one or other of the boys like a steel cage against the bars of which his voice, like a rebellious bird, dashed itself in some irrepressible sound, a pinched-off cry or smothered whistle.

But that always drew a backward hiss of "Mak' you s-silent! W'at for you spik lak dat?" from the advance scout, Toiney, or a clipped, sarcastic "_T'as pas besoin_ to shoutee--engh?"

And the needless semi-shout was repressed next time by the reprimanded one, many a lesson in self-control being learned thereby.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MAK' YOU S-SILENT! W'AT FOR YOU SPIK LAK DAT?"]

More than once patience was at last rewarded by a glimpse of the trotting traveler, the sly red fox, maker of that shadow-path: of its sandy coat, white throat, large black ears, and the bushy, reddish tail, with milk-white tip, the "flag" as woodsmen call it.

Instinctively on such occasions Leon at first yearned for his gun, his old "fuzzee," with which he had worked havoc--often purposeless and excessive--among sh.o.r.e birds, and from which he had to part when he enlisted in the Boy Scouts of America, and adopted principles tending toward the conservation of all wild life rather than to destruction.

Gradually, however, Starrie Chase, like his brother scouts, came under the glamour of this peaceful trailing. He began to discover a subtler excitement, more spicy fun--the spicier for Toiney's presence--in the brief contemplation of that dog-fox at home, trotting along, unmolested, to his hunting-ground, than in past fevered glimpses of him when all interest in his wiles and habits was merged into greed for his skin and tail.

Many were the opportunities, too, for a glimpse at the white flag of the shy deer as it bounded off into some deeper woodland glade, and for being thrilled by the swift drumming of the partridge's wings when it rose from its dusting-place on the ground or on some old log whose brown, flaky wood could be reduced to powder; or from feasting on the brilliant and lowly partridge-berries which, nestling amid their evergreen leaves, challenged November's sereness.

Each woodland hike brought its own revelation--its special discovery--insignificant, perhaps--but which thereafter stood out as a beauty spot upon the face of the day.

The hikes were generally conducted after this manner: seven of the Owls with their tall scoutmaster would leave the town bright and early on a Sat.u.r.day morning, a goodly spectacle in their khaki uniforms, and, staff in hand, take their way through the woods to the little farm-clearing where they were reinforced by the a.s.sistant scoutmaster in his rough garb--Toiney would not don the scout uniform--and by Harold, the still weak brother.

Their coming was generally heralded by modified shouting. And the impulsive Toiney would suspend some farm task and stand erect with an explosive "_Houp-la!_" tickling his throat, to witness that most exhilarating of present-day sights, a party of boy scouts emerging from the woods into a clearing, with Mother Nature in the guise of the early sunshine rushing, open-armed, to meet them, as if welcoming her stray children back to her heart.

Then Toiney, as forest guide, would a.s.sume the leadership of the party, and not only was his thorough acquaintance with "de bird en de littal wil' an-ni-mal" valuable; but his fund of knowledge about "heem beeg tree," and the uses to which the different kinds of wood could be put, seemed broad and unfailing, too.

The most exciting discovery of that season to the boys was when he pointed out to them one day the small hole or den amid some rocky ledges near Big Swamp where the Mother c.o.o.n--as sometimes happens, though she generally prefers a hollow tree--had brought forth her intrepid offspring; both the one which had raided Toiney's hencoop, and Racc.o.o.n Junior who had come to a warlike issue with the crows.

Toiney, as he explained, had investigated that deep hole amid the ledges when the woods were green with spring, and had discovered some wild animal which by its size and general outline he knew to be a c.o.o.n, crouching at the inner end of it, with her young "littal as small cat."

He had beaten a hasty retreat, not willing to provoke a possible attack from the mother rendered bold by maternity, or to disturb the infant family.

He was radiant at finding the c.o.o.n's rocky home again, though tenantless, now.

"Ha! I'll know we fin' heem den"; he beamed upon his comrades with primitive conceit. "We arre de boy--engh? We arre de bes' scout ev'ry tam!"

And that was the aim of each member of the Owl Patrol, with the exception, perhaps, of Harold, not indeed to be the "best scout," but to figure as the equal in scoutcraft of any lad of his age and a corresponding period of service, in the United States. To this end he drilled, explored and studied, somewhat to the mystification of boys who still held aloof from the scout movement!

"Where are ye off to, Starrie?" inquired G.o.dey Peck, a youth of this type, one fair November afternoon, intercepting Leon about an hour after school had closed. "Don't you want to come along with me? I'm going down to Stanway's shipyard to have a look at the new vessel that they're going to launch at daybreak to-morrow. She's all wedged up on the ways, ready to go. Say!" G.o.dey edged slyly nearer to Leon, "us boys--Choc Latour, Benjie Lane an' me--have hit on a plan for being launched in her. You know they won't allow boys to be aboard, if they know it, when she shoots off the launching ways. But those ship carpenters'll have to rise bright and early if they want to get ahead of us! See?"

G.o.dey laid a forefinger against the left side of his nose, to emphasize a high opinion of his own subtlety.

"How are you going to work it?" Leon asked briefly.

"Why! there's a vessel 'most built on the stocks right 'longside the finished hull. Us boys are going to wake very early, trot down to the shipyard before any of the workmen are around; then we'll shin up the staging an' over the half-built vessel right onto the white deck o' the new one that's waiting to be launched. 'Twill be easy to drop below into the cabin an' hide under the bunks until the time comes for launching her. When we hear 'em knocking out the last block from under her keel--when she's just beginning to crawl--then we'll pop up an' be on deck when she's launched; see?"

"Ho! So you're going to do the stowaway act, eh?" Starrie Chase, with that characteristic snap of his brown eyes, seemed to be taking a mental photograph of the plan.

"Only for an hour or two. You want to be in this too; don't you, Starrie?"

Leon was silent, considering. The underhand scheme ran counter to the aboveboard principles of the scout law which he had sworn to obey; of that he felt sure. "On my honor I will do my best ... to keep myself morally straight!" Voluntarily and enthusiastically he had taken the chivalrous oath, and he was "too much of a fellow" to go back on it deliberately.

"No! I don't want to play stowaway," he answered after a minute. "It's a crazy plan anyhow! Give it up, G.o.de! Likely enough you'll scratch up the paint of the new cabin with your boots, skulking there all three of you--then there'll be a big row; and 'twould seem a pity, too, after all the months it has taken to build an' paint that dandy new hull."

Such a view would scarcely have presented itself to Leon two months ago; he certainly was "deepening the water" in which he floated.

"Well, let's pop down to the shipyard anyhow, an' see her!" urged G.o.dey, hoping that a contemplation of the new vessel, airily wedged high on the launching ways, with her bridal deck white as a hound's tooth, would weaken the other's resolution.

"No, I'll be down there to-morrow morning, on the river-slip, to see her go. But I want to do something else this afternoon. I'm going home to study."

"What?"

"Flag-signaling in the Boy Scout Handbook. I can send a message by semaph.o.r.e now, twenty letters per minute; I must get it down to sixteen before I can pa.s.s the examination for first-cla.s.s scout!" Starrie threw this out impetuously, his face glowing. "We're going to have an outdoor test in some other things this evening--if I pa.s.s it I'll be a second-cla.s.s scout. I don't want to be a tenderfoot for ever! Say! but the signaling gets me; it's so interesting: I'm beginning to study the Morse code now."