Boy Scouts on Hudson Bay Part 2

"Well, they say that one man's food is another's poison," observed Frank; "and all of us feel that your loss is our gain. Red sweaters may be all very well on a baseball field, but in the woods they don't cut such a wide swath."

"Forget it," added Jack.

The two guides were looking after the canoes. It was their customary habit to attend to the craft every night before lying down, because they realized the great value that lay in the only means of making progress that the expedition possessed; while no one dreamed of robbery, still, the motto of a scout is to shut the door _before_ the horse is stolen, and not afterwards. An ounce of prevention is always much better than a pound of cure, so Ned was accustomed to saying, and he was an experienced patrol leader.

While they left some things to the guides, still, the boys were pleased to keep constantly in touch with whatever was transpiring around them.

Long ago they had learned to enjoy making fresh discoveries in the field and forest whenever abroad. And in this new and to them unexplored country they were running across numerous interesting things every day.

They had just two tents along, and as neither of the guides would consent to be under cover save in a rain storm, it allowed the five scouts a chance to sleep comfortably, three in one shelter and a couple in the other. Ned and Jack occupied the smaller tent, while Jimmy bunked with Teddy and Frank in the second one.

Presently the guides came into camp again, though they had been within sight all the time, as the canoes lay well inside the circle of light coming from the fire.

"All well with the boats, Francois?" asked Ned, who was hugging his knees now, and had been joking Frank over several weird pictures the photographer of the expedition had lately developed.

"Everything O. K.," replied the voyageur, as though satisfied with his labor. "No danger we lose same this night, zat is sure. Still, Francois, me, and ze ozzer guide we expect to sleep wiz ze one eye open."

"If you should happen to see some stranger meddling with our boats, Francois--what would you do?" asked Frank.

The voyageur shrugged his broad shoulders in a very Frenchy fashion as he replied.

"I sall call out and ask ze same what he do, sare; and if so be he try to run away, pouf; I ze gun will fire, taking aim to vound ze rascal in ze leg, and not kill."

"Sounds rather war-like, don't it, Ned?" remarked Jack.

"Well, you must remember that this is a wild country up here," the leader of the expedition went on to say, soberly; "and that men are accustomed to looking on all others as enemies until they prove to be friends. A man who would sneak up and hover over our boats, on being addressed, if he were honest would throw up his hand at once and come into camp. Only a sneak thief would try and cut for it. And from my way of looking at it Francois would be justified in giving him a bullet in the leg, or a charge of Number Sevens in the last place he could see as the man galloped away."

As several of the scouts were yawning at a prodigious rate it was now concluded that the time had come to crawl under their blankets and get some sleep. This going to bed was never a very long-drawn-out operation with the scouts when in the open. Each boy would remove his shoes, after taking off his leggings, then follow with his outer garments, and after that just snuggle down under his warm covering, and forgetting all his troubles until the summons came that breakfast was almost ready.

On this especial occasion they vanished inside the tents, leaving the guides at the fire smoking their last pipe of tobacco, which both of them had to indulge in before they could think of sleeping.

After that none of the boys knew a single thing until they were rudely awakened by hearing some one call out roughly.

Immediately afterwards there came a peremptory hail, and then a loud report that must have come from a gun.

Of course there was a hustle in both tents, and it was astonishing how quickly each scout managed to get some of his clothes on. A professional fireman could hardly have shown more expedition about dressing than Ned and Jack did, though hampered more or less in the operation by the darkness.

They had been very careful to remember just where their guns had been placed, so that as soon as they donned clothes it was easy to s.n.a.t.c.h up these weapons, after which they burst out of the tent.

The fire was beginning to revive, showing that some one must have tossed fresh fuel upon the smouldering logs. One glance that way told Ned several hours must have elapsed since he lay down, and that it was even now long after midnight. He would have been able to tell within an hour what time of night it was, had he been given a few seconds to look up at the heavens to note the position of the new stars in sight.

CHAPTER III.

WAS IT A SPY?

The other fellows were coming crawling out from the larger tent when Ned and Jack reached the open air. All of them were carrying guns, as though laboring under an impression that the camp must be a.s.sailed by a rival force.

They found the two guides standing there, and peering out toward a certain quarter. Both were too old hands at this sort of thing to show the least sign of excitement, but Jimmy made up for any lack on their part.

"For the love of Mike where's the invader now? Did he trample all over you, Francois, and is that the brand of his cloven hoof on your hunting shirt now? Was it the same old bull moose, or a new kind of muskeg giant, as big as a church? Show him to me, and see how quick I'll bowl the critter over!"

"Keep still, will you, Jimmy, and let Ned do the talking," advised Jack.

"What did you fire at, Francois?" asked Ned, turning to the guide, for somehow he seemed to naturally guess that it was the French Canadian who had done the shooting, possibly because his voice had been heard raised in a challenge.

"Man, at all I know, sare," replied the other, still looking out into the semi-gloom wistfully.

"I heard you call out loud enough, just as you said you would do," Ned continued; "and instead of answering, did he turn and run away?"

"Zat is just what happen," replied the guide. "He act mooch like ze spy, and so I give heem ze shot."

"Do you think you hit him, Francois?" demanded Frank.

The other rolled up his shoulders, and made the usual "face" as he answered:

"I do not know for sure, sare. Ze light it was mos' uncertain like. I aim down low as I pull ze trigger. Zen he disappear, and I am unable to say if so be he drop down just to sneak avay, or because he wounded."

"Well, we can soon find out," impulsive Jimmy exclaimed; "me to grab up a fine torch, and lead the way. Some of the rest of you form a bodyguard around me, and be ready to give 'em a volley if they so much as peep."

It was just what Ned had been about to propose, so as Jimmy thought of the plan first he was allowed to have his way.

The f.a.got which Jimmy picked out of the fire was burning briskly by now, at one end, and could be made to serve very well as a torch, if only one knew how to handle it. Jimmy had taken lessons in this art, and first of all he swung the brand swiftly around his head several times, so as to make it burn more briskly.

"There, that will do, Jimmy," Jack told him; "and now lead us out, you ferocious little monster. Hold the torch so it won't blind us, remember.

And if they open fire you be sure to duck, so we won't be shooting you in the back."

"Oh! I'll side-step all right, if only you give me the tip," Jimmy went on to say.

He was already starting out with Francois to show him the way to the spot where the latter had his last glimpse of the supposed spy. All of the scouts were fairly quivering with eagerness; and at the same time a cold feeling began to creep over them at the thought of what they might discover the next minute.

Francois had shot low, and only meant to wound, but then his bullet might have glanced upward, and inflicted a fatal injury.

A dozen and more paces they went. Everyone was excited, and looking this way and that, for who could say what the adventure might not mean?

If there was one prowler around there might be a dozen or a score. They remembered what Ned had said concerning the possibility of the reckless plotters composing the mining syndicate gathering together a lawless crowd, and meaning to chase the explorers out of that section of country, should they threaten to discover that a fraud was in the act of being perpetrated.

"Was it about here, Francois, that you saw him vanish?" asked Ned, who had been keeping an eye on the guide, and judged from his actions that they must have arrived close to the suspected spot.

"I am think so, ver' mooch," admitted Francois, eagerly, and then after taking a backward look toward the campfire, he added: "Yes, it ees so, sare. I gif you ze word of a man zat ought to know, zat he was here when I fire ze shot."

"Well, it looks as though you didn't knock him over, Francois," observed Frank, "because there was n.o.body lying amidst the brush."

Without replying, the French Canadian and the Indian guide fell on their knees, and seemed to be closely examining the ground upon which none of the party had as yet set afoot.

"Tamasjo has found something," observed Teddy quickly, as he saw the Indian lower his head closer to the ground, and evidently examine some object with eagerness.