The Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill Part 30

In a few minutes old Greylock throws them off altogether and stands there, with his scars showing, except that across his face a narrow cloud sometimes hangs like a billowy screen, giving him, Ma says, a look of majesty as if G.o.d was living there.

Anyhow, we boys can't help cheering when the mountain shakes off his bonds and stands forth like a giant Scout, telling us to be cheerful and brave and reverent and all that.

The great rains did more than scar the face of Greylock. They kept us from starting on our trip at the time we had planned to go.

"Wait until the woods dry out," Mr. Norton told us. "The roads are too muddy now to think of starting, and you couldn't have any fun if the woods were wet. A week of sunshine will fix things all right."

We hated to wait, but there was plenty to do getting ready, so that the time did not seem long.

"We'll carry no firearms," he went on. "Guns seemed necessary when this was a wilderness, but we are going over a fairly well traveled road.

Scouts do not believe in wanton killing, anyway."

"How about bears?" asked Skinny, anxiously.

"I have made careful inquiries and have not found anybody who has seen a bear along that road in years. I know you found one near the Savoy road, or he found you, but that cub was as badly frightened as you were.

Should any of us see a bear, which is not at all likely, I don't believe there is anything in Scout law to keep us from running one way while the bear is running another."

"I don't know about a Scout's running," Skinny told him. "Of course I ran, but I didn't run far, only to the nearest tree, so that I could la.s.so him better."

"Well, that's all right. Run to the nearest tree and then give the Scout signal. Some of the noises which you boys make, especially William, would scare a whole drove of bears."

"Anyhow, I'm going to carry my rope."

"I'll tell you what we can do. We'll put in the week making bows and arrows. Every boy should carry with him a good bow, made of hickory, hemlock, or mountain ash, and a quiver full of arrows. You never will have a better chance to become experts in archery."

We thought that we would make them of hemlock, because there are plenty of hemlock trees up above Peck's Falls and in Plunkett's woods, but Mr.

Norton told us that we ought to make them of seasoned wood. The next day he sent some seasoned hickory over to our barn and we made the bows and arrows of that.

We took a lot of pains with them, and a carpenter that Hank knew helped us some. Before the week was over we had some weapons which Skinny said he knew we could scare a bear with, anyhow. Each Scout's bow was about as long as himself and an inch thick in the center. The ends were shaved down until they bent evenly. For string, we used strong, unbleached linen threads, twisted together. Benny made his bow so stiff at first that he couldn't bend it, but Hank showed him how to shave it down, until he could draw the string back twenty-three inches, like the book says.

The arrows gave us the most trouble because they had to be so straight and round. We made them twenty-five inches long and about three-eighths of an inch thick, and we glued turkey feathers on near the notched end.

The other end we fitted into a bra.s.s ferrule, to keep the wood from splitting. The arrows looked fine, when we had them made and painted.

Each boy painted his a different way, so that we could tell which one killed the bear.

Mr. Norton showed us how to make guards for the left wrist, to keep the bow cord from striking it. To protect the fingers of the right hand, we used an old leather glove, with the thumb and little finger cut away.

I'll never forget the morning we started. After breakfast the boys, all in uniform, came over to my house. Pretty soon Mr. Norton drove up in a light wagon, loaded with tents, camp outfit, and things to eat.

We greeted him with cheers, and when he had come close gave him the Scout salute.

"Come on, boys. Let's get started, if you are ready," he said. "We have a long walk ahead of us, if we expect to camp on Florida Mountain to-night."

"Great snakes!" said Bill. "That listens good to little Willie!" And he gave a yell that brought people out of their houses, all up and down Park Street.

"Boys," said Pa, just as we were starting, "remember that your folks are trusting you and, as we understand it, a Scout's honor is to be trusted.

Remember, too, that it is a Scout's duty to obey orders and that the one to give you orders while you are away is Mr. Norton. And let me add that he has my full sympathy. If he isn't worn to a frazzle before he gets back, I'll miss my guess."

In another minute we were off, the folks calling good-bys after us and shouting for us to remember this and not to forget that and not to do something else.

Mr. Norton drove the horse at the start because he knew that we would want to march through town, and away we went, with our bows and arrows on our backs, and Skinny, with his rope and hatchet, which he called his tomahawk.

At the Gingham Ground we found the boys of Eagle Patrol drawn up by the side of the road. They saluted and cheered as we pa.s.sed.

"If we have good luck this time, we'll take you next year," called Mr.

Norton. "I'm new at the business, myself, and eight youngsters are all I want to tackle the first time."

"Skinny! Oh, Skinny-y-y!" yelled Jim, when we were almost out of hearing.

We stopped and waited to find out what was wanted.

"Don't kill all the game-e-e. Save some for seed."

Skinny's only answer was to wave his tomahawk. Then we marched on toward North Adams, and at nearly every house we pa.s.sed people came to the door to see what was going on. It made us feel proud.

We took turns riding, two or three boys in the wagon at a time, because Mr. Norton said that he didn't want us to get all tired out before we started and that we shouldn't be really started until we came to the mountain.

The day was fine and the roads were getting dusty again. We were so happy that almost before we knew it we came to the foot of a hill, which led up into the mountain, and there we stopped to eat lunch.

Before leaving home, I asked Pa why they called it Florida Mountain and why they called a little town on top Florida, and he said because that was its name. Anyhow, they call 'em that. Before Hoosac Tunnel was built under the mountain, a stage coach made regular trips over it, along the road we were going to take. That was the only way people had to get to Greenfield and the other towns on the east side, without going south to Pittsfield and from there going over Mount Washington on the Boston & Albany Railroad. Now, there is a big hole under the mountain, more than four miles long, and trains go through in a few minutes.

After we had eaten and had a good rest, we started up a road, which we could see winding up the mountainside, far above us.

"Now, boys," said Mr. Norton, "we don't have to make this trip all in one day. We are out for fun and to learn something about scouting; if we climb too far in this hot sun it will get to be work instead of play. I propose that we climb slowly, taking plenty of time to enjoy the wonderful views that will unfold before us with every turn of the road.

You boys can stop whenever you feel like it, to rest, or explore, or shoot. Before we get to the top, we'll pitch our tents near some spring, in full view of the valley and setting sun. We'll plan it so as to have several hours of daylight left after we go into camp for the night. What do you say?"

That suited us all right and away we went, with Benny driving, and the old horse moving along in good shape.

Say, no tunnels for us, after this! Tunnels are all right when you are in a hurry. But were we in a hurry? I guess not!

It was just as Mr. Norton had told us. At every turn of the road, and mountain roads wind around with a lot of turns instead of going straight up, we stopped to look back over the valley. And every time we stopped it looked different. It was great. And the higher we climbed, the better it looked and the farther we could see, until the whole valley lay before us, all the way to Pittsfield and west toward the Hudson. To the north, the Green Mountains of Vermont looked blue in the distance.

Across the valley, on the south, old Greylock put his head up above the other peaks and watched us, wondering, we thought, why we were going up Florida Mountain instead of climbing over him.

"Hurray!" yelled Skinny. "I'm Captain Clark, exploring the great Northwest."

"I'm Captain Lewis," shouted Benny, strutting around and waving his bow.

"Me Injun chief," said Bill. "Ugh! Heap pale face get lost. No find trail. Injun show um way."

Then he gave such a yell that it scared the horse and we hardly could keep up.

About four o'clock in the afternoon we came to a spring near the top of the mountain, and a little beyond, through the trees, we could see a gra.s.sy slope, just the place for our camp.

"This looks good to me," said Mr. Norton, driving up to the side of the road and blocking the wheels of the wagon. "We'll give the horse a drink after he cools off a little and unload the things which we shall need to-night."

It looked like an Indian village there, when we had finished setting the tents up. For beds we went into the woods and cut branches of hemlock, which we wove into mattresses and covered with blankets.

"Let's play 'Hunt the Deer,'" said Skinny, when all was ready for the night and Mr. Norton had sat down to rest on a rock, overlooking the valley.