The Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods Part 15

"Thad, can't we look up that one I shot now; I'd just hate to lose him, you know?" begged Step Hen.

"Why, I suppose it would be safe for all of us to go out," returned the patrol leader. "Here, pick up something that will burn, and come along."

They found Thad's victim without any trouble, but the second one was not within range of the light from their torches. But poor anxious Step Hen begged so piteously to be allowed to extend the search "just a little further," that Thad did not have the heart to say no. And a minute later, after they had gone forward twice as far as Thad had at first intended, Step Hen gave a gurgling cry.

"Looky there, Thad, what's that thing lying over yonder? Seems to me mighty like a dead one. Yes, sir, that's what it is, as sure as I'm Step Hen Bingham. Oh! how terrible he looks, even when stretched out there, and gone up the flue. _My_ wolf, too. What a fine coat he's got, and as gray as they make 'em. Say, won't I just cut a swell when I wear that out in a sleigh with Sue Baker; and every time she rubs the sleeve she'll say: 'And just to think that _you_ shot this savage old wolf all by yourself, Step Hen; oh! what a brave fellow you are!'"

It was a second dead wolf, sure enough. The little repeating rifle had, as usual, given a good account of itself, and the stricken beast had only been able to drag himself a little distance away, before giving up.

Both animals were dragged over to the fires, and then Eli set to work taking off the skins with a rapidity that told of long experience along the trapping line.

"No use aluggin' these critters over ter the canoe, and then ter camp,"

Eli had announced. "Ther two skins'll make a purty good coat, I guess naow. An' so ye gut a pack o' prime venison to tote home as well, hev ye? Thet's good. My mouth's jes' made up fur a steak; an' the boys'll feel tickled ter death when they sees yer."

Step Hen was a little nervous at leaving the fire zone, especially since Eli and Thad insisted on putting out every spark before departing, according to the law of the State; but then he managed to carry one torch, and with that to serve them, they took up their line of march.

It was not so very far to the edge of the lake. Thad laughed, and said the joke was on him; because, when they halted he really believed they were a couple of miles away from water. If he had known the sh.o.r.e was so near by he would have managed to coax the tired Step Hen to trudge on just a little further, so as to camp with the water covering one side, and bringing that much security; not to speak of the chances for signaling to the home camp by means of the code which he and Allan, as Boy Scouts, understood.

But it was all right now, and Step Hen felt quite merry over the chance of being taken comfortably to the camp by means of the canoe.

Eli did the paddling, and the two weary lads just snuggled down in the boat, feeling that they had had a great day of it, all told. The presence of the venison, as well as the wolf-skins, would be positive proof as to the reliability of their astonishing story; should there be any skeptic around. And then Thad had the wonderful mushroomed bullet that had killed that six-p.r.o.nged buck; so that as they narrated the first adventure that had come their way, they could produce evidence to back up the story.

Their coming was greeted by more or less enthusiasm, although the boys had evidently been coached by Allan not to be too vociferous, as they were in a country where timid game abounded, and it was poor policy to frighten away the quarry they had come so far to secure.

Step Hen forgot all his weariness as he found himself being shaken by the hand again and again, while he and Thad told the tale of their day's outing. It was nice to play the hero part once in a while, and more than ever did Step Hen feel that life had become more worth living than ever, since he joined the Cranford troop of Boy Scouts. But for that he would never have discovered what splendid things there were to be met with in the great forests; and the spirit of the hunter and the fisherman, which had lain dormant in his nature, might never have been awakened.

And while the hour was rather late, all of the boys insisted on tasting a small piece of the deer meat brought in by the two successful Nimrods.

CHAPTER XV.

THE FOX FARMER.

"Say, this is the greatest venison I ever tasted!" declared b.u.mpus, after he had disposed of his share, and sighed to think that the rules of the game debarred him from having a second piece; because they had had a b.u.mper supper only a few hours before.

"Just dandy!" added Giraffe, who was in the same cla.s.s as his fat campmate, and would have been only too glad for an invitation to "cut, and come again."

"Oh!" exclaimed Step Hen, suddenly, "I reckon we've got to congratulate you, Giraffe."

"Me? Er, what d'ye mean, Step Hen?" replied the tall scout, at the same time beginning to look a trifle confused.

"Why, you know you told us we'd be _surprised_ when we got back,"

the other went on to say, a little maliciously; "and I reckon you've gone and done it at last; and now you're ready to show us just how easy it works."

b.u.mpus could not refrain for the life of him from giving a sarcastic chuckle, which of course added to the evident embarra.s.sment of Giraffe; who, however a.s.sumed a serious air upon making his reply.

"Well,--er--not exactly, Step Hen. I've got her figgered out all right, in my mind, so that in the morning I c'n go ahead, and work out the details. I calculate a short half hour ought to see me wind up in just a blaze of glory. But just yet it's a toss-up who the ice-cream's going to be on, b.u.mpus or me."

"Oh! I ain't worrying even a little mite," a.s.serted the confident b.u.mpus.

"Well, you wait and see!" declared Giraffe, defiantly. "You don't all know what I've got up my sleeve. The feller that laughs last laughs loudest, they say. And I give you all fair warning that's going to be me."

Meanwhile Thad managed to get in close touch with Jim Hasty. When the others were joking, and having a merry time, he was wondering how the guide's little affair had been working out.

Many hours had pa.s.sed since he had seen Jim, and he wondered whether the latter could have had any further communication from Old Cale, or even run across the father of his wife in the pine woods.

Jim was looking a little more serious than ever; but so far as Thad could discover there was nothing about him to indicate that he had been in violent collision with an enemy. And there were both his ears in their proper places; which fact might be taken as positive proof that the giant poacher had at least so far not attempted to carry out his terrible threat.

Jim seemed to know what was pa.s.sing through the boy's mind; for he smiled faintly, and shook his head in the negative.

"Nothing new happened, then, Jim?" questioned the patrol leader.

"Naw. I hain't been far from camp the hull blessed day; an' consequently never had no chanct tew run up against Pa Martin," replied the other.

"But I'm more sot than ever tew see him face tew face, afore I quits this here region. It's jest _gut_ tew be done, else I wudn't hev ther nerve tew face Little Lina agin. She made me promise; an' by thunder! nawthin' hain't agoin' tew skeer me off. If he doan't hunt me out, by ding! I'll take a turn at hit, an' find Cale Martin myself, ef so be I gotter tramp all the way tew his shack, wich I knows on'y tew well."

"Good for you, Jim!" said Thad, admiringly; "but I suppose you understand what risk you're taking in trying that game? From all I've heard about Cale Martin, he's surely a terror; and then the threat he made about your ears would be enough to scare most men away."

Jim drew a long breath as he answered this.

"Lot's o' people doan't know Ole Cale like I does. He hain't so black nor they jes' paints him. Them game wardens is afeerd o' him, and they piles all kinds o' things on his shoulders thet he hain't no business to kerry."

"Yes, I've heard before about giving a dog a bad name, and then he has to bear the sins of the whole neighborhood," remarked Thad. "There is never a sheep killed but that Dog Tray is the guilty one. And so you think Cale isn't altogether so bad as we've heard?"

"He's a big man, and he's gut an' _orful_ temper; but it's them tew critters he goes with thet's the wust cases. They jest draw him inter slick games, Cale, he'd never think o' tryin', left by hisself. But we heerd as haow he's struck a new thing, if so be he on'y knows enuff ter keep it agoin', an' shakes them other fellers. An' if anybody kin make a success o' fox raisin', I jest guess Cale is ther man, 'cause he knows all erbout the slick little varmints from A ter Z."

"Fox raising?" exclaimed Thad, at once deeply interested. "Tell me about that, Jim. Seems like it ought to be worth while listening to."

"Why," said Jim, apparently only too well pleased to say something in favor of the big and reckless parent of his little wife; "yer see, thar's a company as hes been formed away daown in Bosting, tew raise foxes o' all kinds, jest tew git the pelts. I s'pose yew knows as haow them skins air agittin' more valerable every blessed year. More people tew wear furs, an' less animals tew give 'em. Why, thar was twelve hundred dollars paid fur a black fox pelt jest last Spring; an' I seen the check with my own eyes."

"Yes," Thad went on, deeply interested. "I've understood that tremendous prices were being paid out for that scarce skin; but is Cale meaning to try and raise black or silver foxes for the market? I was told by several people that they considered the silver fox only a freak, and that they would never breed true to species. How about that, Jim?"

"I've allers hed an ijee thet way myself," returned the short guide, scratching his head in a reflective manner; "but Cale, he thinks the other way; an' Cale, he sure knows more about foxes in a day than I wud in a year. Wall, we done heard as haow he hed made a contrack with this company fur a number o' years, tew act as manager o' ther farm. It's in another part o' ther State; an' when Cale, he leaves here arter a leetle while, he never 'spects tew come back again. Wouldn't be surprised naow if he hed a few foxes over tew ther old shack as he means tew kerry away with him when he quits up here."

"But do you suppose he'll stick to those two tough characters, and keep them with him in his new job? Won' they queer his game with the company, Jim?"

"Wall, I doan't know, of course, what his plans be, but Cale, he's a great feller tew keep his word; an' if so be he's told this company as he'll run things straight jest believe me they ain't agoin' tew be no place for them two poachers around _his_ fox farm. He'd run 'em off with his gun mighty quick. Yes, Cale keeps his word; an' thet's what makes me a leetle bit shy 'bout bein' able tew convince him tew leave my ears whar they belongs. But Lina, bless her, sez as haow he jest cain't hold aout, when he hears what I gotter tell him; an' Lina, she orter know."

Thad admired the man more than ever. Just because of his faith in Lina, here was Jim ready to put his head in the lion's mouth, so to speak.

Thad suspected that he might be carrying some very important intelligence to the bearded giant of the pine woods; but whatever it was, Jim did not take the trouble to enlighten him; and Thad did not really think he had any business to ask.

After that Jim seemed to lapse into silence, and seeing that he did not appear anxious to continue the talk along lines that concerned his personal matters, the scoutmaster turned to the others again.

The hour was now getting rather late, and while those who had remained in camp during much of the day might not be unusually tired, Step Hen gave signs of falling asleep by the fire. Several times his head gave a lurch to one side, so that presently Giraffe caught him roughly by the arm.

"See here, d'ye want to take a header square into the blaze, Step Hen?"

he demanded, as the other opened his eyes, and looked sleepily at him.