The Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods Part 7

Davy joined in the general laugh that greeted this outbreak; then he walked gravely over, and insisted on feeling of Step Hen's neck.

"Hey! what you up to, now, you Jones boy? Keep your paws off me!"

exclaimed the object of this solicitude, suspiciously dodging.

"I only wanted to make sure that the connection was sound still,"

retorted the other; "because some fine day, all of us expect you to lose your head."

"Well, I've seen you lose yours more'n a few times, when you got fl.u.s.trated and excited; and it didn't seem to hurt much," Step Hen retorted.

"There's a big difference in heads," remarked Davy.

"I should say there was," replied the other, meaningly; "and the gray stuff that's in 'em, too. Some are hollow, like a punkin; while others, mine for instance, are just crammed full of thinks."

"Well, I'd advise you to use a few of the thinks trying to remember where you put your belongings; and quit accusing the rest of us of playing tricks on you; or a silly little jinx of stealing things." Davy went on, shaking his finger at the careless scout.

"If all you fellows are done eating, perhaps we'd better get a move on us," suggested the scoutmaster; of course Thad was really only the a.s.sistant, for according to the regulations governing all troops of Boy Scouts connected with the parent organization, there had to be a grown-up acting in the capacity of scoutmaster; though Thad had pa.s.sed an examination that ent.i.tled him to receive his commission as a.s.sistant, from the headquarters in New York City.

As this gentleman, a Dr. Philander Hobbs, had been unable to get away with them on this trip to Maine, he had relegated his authority to the shoulders of Thad; a proceeding that was greatly relished by the other five scouts, because they liked to feel that they were depending on themselves, with no grown-up along.

Accordingly there was a movement among the campers. Tents had to come down, and be stowed away; and all the material connected with the cooking department made into as small a compa.s.s as possible.

All of them worked but Giraffe, who was on his knees near by, doing something that Thad could easily guess the nature of. Knowing the stubborn qualities in the angular scout Thad felt sure that none of them would know any peace until Giraffe had finally managed to strike a clue, and effect the end he had in view, of making an actual boni-fide fire after the way known to the South Sea Islanders, with his little bow, his sharp-pointed stick set in a hole made in a block of wood, and his inflammable tinder, backed by indomitable energy, and "get there"

spirit.

And for the sake of harmony in the camp, Thad really wished Giraffe would hurry up, and solve the knotty problem.

Inside of half an hour they were all packed, and ready to make another start in the direction of the Eagle chain of lakes to the north.

CHAPTER VII.

THE LONG-DRAWN HOWL OF A CANADA WOLF.

"All ready!" sang out Thad.

Some of them were already settled in the canoes; but Giraffe still remained, kneeling on the sh.o.r.e.

"Come, we've waited long enough for you, old Slow-poke!" called out b.u.mpus, who was the partner of the tall scout in the canoe paddled by Eli.

Very slowly did Giraffe approach, his eyes turned beseechingly on Thad.

"Say, that's the way it always goes," he declared. "I was just getting on to it the best ever, and if I only had half an hour more, I'd made my fire as sure as I'm Conrad Stedman. I've got her all figgered out; and by noon I'll be twisted in my mind again, and the whole combination lost."

But Thad only shook his head.

"Couldn't think of it, Number Six," he declared. "It was one part of the agreement made with you that on no occasion were you to delay the balance of the party. All ready; b.u.mpus, give the signal."

b.u.mpus was a natural musician. He could play "any old instrument," and extract very good music from banjo, guitar, violin, or even an accordion; he also had a fine voice that often aroused the enthusiastic acclaim of his comrades while sitting around the fire of evenings.

Of course, then, he had been made the bugler of the troop as soon as the organization was commenced. It had not been deemed just the right thing for him to fetch his musical instrument along while the Silver Fox Patrol chanced to be in the Maine woods on a hunt; but then that was no bar to b.u.mpus, who could put his hands to his mouth, and give a splendid imitation of the reveille, a.s.sembly, taps, or any other military call.

So Giraffe had to climb into Eli's canoe, looking very much discouraged.

Really, it did seem as though an evil spirit took especial delight in baffling him, just when he seemed in a fair way to reach the goal of his present ambition. As he had once before complained, he had even had his tinder soaked by a sudden shower, and just at the critical moment when he felt sure it was about to burst into a successful blaze.

But one thing was sure, these successive defeats only served to make him shut his teeth harder together, and resolve that nothing would ever prevent him from getting that fire, if it took him a year. He might be beaten once, twice, or fifty times; but there would come a day to the patient plodder when the door of opportunity would open for him. And surely success would stand for a great deal more if he had to work like this for it, than if easily attained.

Before noon came they had arrived at the place where the stream ran into the Lower Lake of the Eagle Chain; and when they stopped for lunch, it was upon the sh.o.r.e of this beautiful sheet of water.

Thad had been secretly keeping an eye on Jim. He knew that the guide must feel more or less anxiety, despite his brave outward showing. And when Jim thought no one was observing he would look out of the tail of his eye at every clump of bushes that seemed any way suspicious, as long as they were upon the river.

And hence, it was doubtless a positive relief when they started out on the broader water of the lake; for after that he would only have to watch one sh.o.r.e.

About one o'clock they again started. The air continued cold, but bracing, and this made paddling a pleasure, up to a certain point.

All of the scouts took a hand at it, even b.u.mpus, and received more or less valuable instruction from the two guides, as to how the paddle should be worked in order to have as little "lost motion" as possible; and at the same time secure the greatest amount of benefit. But when after half an hour of labor, they found their muscles beginning to tire from the unaccustomed motion, the boys considered themselves lucky to be able to turn the paddles over once more to the canoe men, who were used to the job, and could keep it up steadily all day, if need be.

When they drew near the outlet where the waters of the Lower Lake flowed into Lake Winthrop, Thad, happening to look back, managed to discover a canoe skirting the sh.o.r.e some miles distant. From the actions of those in it, they seemed desirous of remaining unnoticed; for they took advantage of every headland that jutted out; and when they had to make across the open, it was done with all possible speed.

Thad did not need to be told who was in that craft. And glancing toward Jim, he understood that the Maine guide had doubtless been aware of the pursuing canoe for some time; because he nodded at the scoutmaster when he caught his eye.

"It's him, is it, Jim?" called out Thad; for the canoes were some thirty feet apart at the time.

"Yep," came the answer, accompanied by an affirmative nod of Jim's head.

"You know him, even at that distance, then?" continued the patrol leader.

"He's workin' the paddle right now," replied the other. "Yuh cain't mistake his way o' swingin' ther spruce blade. Ole Cale hain't gut his ekal at thet in all the State o' Maine."

It was plain to be seen, then, that the giant poacher was on the trail of his detested son-in-law, possibly bent on carrying out his terrible threat; though Thad hoped such might not prove to be the case.

He knew that often these rough men of the woods could appreciate true bravery; and that there _might_ be a chance, however slight, that Old Cale was lost in admiration for the recklessnes that could induce Jim to brave his wrath. What if he had been consumed by a sudden deep curiosity to know what really caused the other to take the risk and come up here? Could he suspect that Little Lina had sent a message to him?

All these things gave Thad occasion for considerable thinking. At the same time he did not mean to lose sight of the main reason for their having come so far from their homes, in order to get some hunting, and camping experience, that would prove valuable to his fellow scouts, anxious to learn all that they could at first hands, of wood-craft.

"I'm glad we were as particular as we were about putting out the very last spark of fire this morning," Thad remarked, as the canoes moved along close to one another.

"Why?" demanded Giraffe, a little suspiciously; for every time that magical word was used he chose to think all eyes must be turned in his direction; just as though he should be placed in the same cla.s.s with fire.

"Oh! because the wind came up like great guns shortly after we left camp," Thad went on, always ready to point a lesson to those under him; "and from the river, too. Now, if we'd left any fire there, the chances are it would have been picked up, and thrown into the woods. As there was a lot of dry stuff around, you can see how easy a fire starts up here. And when it once gets going, I reckon it can burn some, eh, Allan?"

"If you ever have the good or bad luck to run across a forest afire, while we're up in this section, you'll see a sight that none of you'll soon forget," and he had to cast a meaning glance as he spoke in the direction of the fire worshipper.

But Giraffe only smiled in a satisfied way.

"Talk all you want," he remarked; "but I think I've got that business down fine, now; and to-night, _to-night_ I'm just bound to prove to b.u.mpus here that the cream is on him. I knew I'd get it sometime."