Jack Winters' Campmates Part 8

"Say, wouldn't it be a joke on us now, Jack, if a regular old drencher came on, and soaked us to the skin? I'm listening in expectation of hearing the mutter of thunder in the distance. After all, this wonderful day seems bent on bringing us face to face with a number of queer happenings. There, was that a growl of thunder then, or could it be another of those queer blasts we heard before?"

"Neither, I reckon, Steve. I think it was only the wind rising, and making a moaning sound among some treetops. I've heard it call out in a way to make you think some poor fellow had been caught under a falling tree, and was being slowly crushed to death. Yes, there it goes again, you notice."

"But doesn't it sound spooky, though?" ventured Steve, looking hastily over his right shoulder for luck. "Does that spell rain to you, Jack?"

"I hardly like to say, but it wouldn't surprise me if we did have a spell of it before morning," the other went on.

"I only hope then it'll have the decency to hold off till we're safe back in camp again," Steve ventured. "That tent is guaranteed to shed water in the hardest downpour. Mr. Whitlatch, the town photographer, has tested it many times and promised that it would not leak a drop; only you've got to keep from touching it when wet with your fingers, because that's a bad thing to do, and may start a drip."

Both boys found themselves bending over more than at any previous time during the return journey. This was all on account of the gathering darkness, for with the pa.s.sage of every minute the task of seeing their tracks was becoming more difficult.

"This thing is getting pretty tough," wheezed Steve, finally. "I've got fairly decent eyes, but I own up they're going back on me pretty fast trying to pick up our trail of the morning. How far away are we from camp, do you reckon, Jack?"

"An hour's tramp yet," he was told with an a.s.surance that surprised Steve. "If you're wondering how I can tell, I'll show you. Don't you remember our stopping to take a good look at this queer twisted tree that seems to be trying to make its straight neighbors support it? Well, I remember that we were just about one full hour out when we got here."

"It takes you to notice everything, Jack. I never once thought to pay any attention to our time when we were going, except to count the hours until it would be near noon, and feeding time."

"What about that snack you saved over?" chuckled Jack, who knew what the answer was bound to be, because he had often seen Steve nibbling on the sly.

"Gone long ago, every crumb of it," came the frank admission, "and right now there's beginning to crop up a strong desire for more grub. I hope Toby thinks to have supper all ready for us when we do get in."

Steve was limping more or less now as he trailed along behind the leader. He felt tired, and that heel bothered him again; besides, sheltered by the friendly darkness he thought he was at liberty to shuffle along in any old fashion that offered him the most comfort.

"We'll ease up on the eye strain a bit for one thing," Jack was saying as he fumbled at one of his pockets.

Suddenly a brilliant shaft of white light shot out ahead of them. Steve gave utterance to a startled cry, in which delight was mingled with surprise.

"So you fetched along one of those hand-electric torches, did you, Jack?" he exclaimed. "Well, a flashlight never had a better chance to make itself useful than right now. It's going to be a picnic from here on. I can see every little twig and blade of gra.s.s; and as for our trail, a fellow could follow it with one eye shut. Thank goodness! our troubles for the day are ended; unless it comes on to rain cats and dogs before we get under shelter."

He cast frequent anxious glances aloft whenever the trees were open enough to allow of a view of the sky. There were no stars visible, as must have been the case had it not clouded over; because the hour had grown late enough for an exhibition of the usual heavenly display.

"I hate to say it, Jack, but I really thought I felt a drop right then,"

Steve remarked.

"We can stand it all right, if we have to," commented the other, as though determined not to be cast down by such a trifling happening. "I have a hunch that it won't amount to much, if it rains at all. What's a little wetting between friends, tell me? And neither of us happens to be made of sugar or salt. This sort of thing lends variety and spice to an outing in the woods. It would be too monotonous if every single thing just happened as we planned it. Besides, we have gone half an hour since leaving that twisted tree."

"Jack, just then it seemed to me I could glimpse some sort of a light ahead of us. Toby might have built a roaring fire, to cheer us up as we came along the back trail. Yes, there I could see it flame up again, over the trees and against the background of the clouded sky. We're getting close to home, thank goodness!"

"I agree with you, Steve, for I saw it just as you said. Toby, like a good fellow, has started up a big fire. He must be getting a bit anxious about us by this time, and you can't blame him much. No one likes to be left alone in camp all day, and then have a dark night come along, with prospects of a storm, too."

"Shall I give him a shout, Jack? It'll ease the poor fellow's mind some."

"Just one whoop, then, Steve. He'll understand, and can be finishing supper while he waits. How about that rain now; have you felt any more drops?"

"No, I own up I haven't," confessed Steve, "and mebbe I was mistaken about thinking as I did. Queer how things somehow do manage to clear up.

Often what we dread never happens at all. That old cat didn't tackle us, though I felt sure she would; the storm hasn't caught us yet, if I did count on getting soaked through; and there lies the camp before us," as a sudden turn in the trail allowed them to catch a glimpse of a still distant fire that seemed to leap upward wildly.

The thought of soon arriving at the end of their long tramp gave both lads additional vigor, so that they actually increased their pace, and made better time in the last half mile of the journey.

Toby could be seen bustling about as though he had heard Steve's whoop, now and again he would stand and shade his eyes with his hand as he stared into the darkness over the fire. Thinking to add to his peace of mind Jack flashed his light several times as a signal, which he knew the other would understand, for Toby had been with him when the hand-torch was purchased, and knew all about it.

Finally they reached the camp. How welcome did the sight of the big khaki-colored tent, that cheery campfire, and the friendly wagon standing close by seem to the eyes of the tired stragglers as they stalked in and threw themselves down on the ground to rest.

"Supper all ready, fellows, just when you say the word," cheerily chirped Toby Hopkins; "but if you're overly tired you'd better take things easy a bit before eating."

CHAPTER X

THE NIGHT ALARM

Steve was so ravenously hungry after his long tramp that he could not be held back long. Doctors might say it was very bad to eat when exhausted, but what boy was ever known to restrain himself on that account?

So they settled down on the logs, and had a surprise in store for them, because Toby had actually fashioned a rude sort of table from several boards fetched along in the wagon for that very purpose.

"This is something like," burst out Steve, when he found the dishes being spread before him, and caught a scent of a savory stew the cook had prepared in vast quant.i.ties, knowing Steve as he did.

"Sorry I haven't any tablecloth and napkins to do the thing up brown,"

ventured Toby, whereat a shout went up from the others, who violently declared that such things were taboo in the woods, and never see unless there were ladies in camp.

Of course it was only natural that Toby should be eager to learn of their adventures during the long day; but he knew nothing could induce them to talk until at least the raw edge of their clamorous appet.i.tes had been taken off; so he continued to ply them with more food.

Jack, seeing the mute look of entreaty in Toby's face finally took pity on him.

"Now, you'll want to hear what sort of time we've met with, Toby," he said; "and how we had to hand over the laurel wreath of victory to one old mother cat that somehow seemed averse to letting us go ahead."

"A cat!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Toby, and then he looked wise; "Guess you must mean a lynx, don't you, Jack, and with whelps in the bargain. Whee!"

"No, this was a wildcat of the ordinary variety," Jack told him. "A Canada lynx is an altogether different object, and has ta.s.seled ears that make it look mighty queer. But Steve here will tell you why we didn't dare tackle the old lady when she threw down the gauntlet."

"I want to know!" cried Toby. "Tell me how it came about, Steve. I noticed that both of you seemed to be carrying pretty hefty clubs when you came in. So there _are_ ferocious wild beasts at large up here in the Pontico Hills country?"

"Ferocious is hardly the word to describe that wildcat, I tell you, Toby," said Steve. "Wow! how she did spit and snarl until a fellow's blood ran cold. And when we glimpsed her yellow eyes they seemed to glow like phosphorous."

So the story was told by degrees, Steve liking to linger when he reached the point where their progress was barred the second time by the audacious and persevering feline foe.

"Wasn't it too bad you didn't have the shotgun along just then,"

observed Toby, "because you'd have easily knocked that beast over, and ended its ugly career."

"Just what I said several times," Steve a.s.serted, "and I'd have been tickled half to death at the chance; but then I don't believe Jack would have fired, even if we had the gun along. You see, it would have told anybody within a mile of the spot how we were poking around, and that's something against his plans."

They both looked yearningly toward Jack, but he only smiled, and made no remark, upon which Steve sighed, and shook his head as if to confess that it was no use trying to tempt their leader to antic.i.p.ate his promised disclosure by even an hour.

By degrees everything was told, even to some of the remarkable sights that they had run across during their tramp. Steve spoke of the enormous tree alongside of which he had stood while Jack snapped off a picture, so as to show by comparison just what a magnificent old forest monarch the mighty oak was.

An hour pa.s.sed, and they were enjoying every minute of the time. It felt so good to be back in camp again. Those among my boy readers who have ever been through a similar experience can easily understand the sensation of solid comfort that took possession of Steve as he lolled there, filled to the limit with supper, and enjoying the crackling fire in a way words could never describe.