The Boy Scouts of the Geological Survey Part 2

"Wish I could!" he admitted. "Haven't time to spare, though."

"Studying?" queried Tom.

"No, working" And Ralph stated briefly and frankly the nature of his work.

"Like it?" again inquired Tom, who was always interested in people and their occupations.

"I don't mind the work itself," said Ralph, "it's not half bad, you know. But selling vegetables in the village market, and haggling with stingy buyers over the price of cabbages and green peas, is what gets my goat!" He laughed ruefully. "I guess I'll have to be jogging on my homeward way," he added. "So long! Come over and see me on the farm, if you're ever along that way. I'll show you my traps and perhaps we can go out on a little hunt--er---that is, if you-----"

"Thanks; we will," said Tom. "But we don't hunt animals to kill; it's against scout rules in our troop."

"We hunt 'em with a camera," Arthur explained.

"Oh, I see. Well, so long."

The three lads shook hands.

"So long! Hope we'll meet again soon."

Ralph then took his leave of Denmead and Doctor Kane, and went on his way, with a new idea buzzing in his mind: so they were going to make a survey of that locality! He could invite them to investigate his land, and---what if his father's hopes and beliefs should prove to be founded on bed-rock? Bed-rock, rich in ore? Could it be more than a dream? If they should discover any iron, anything---they were nice fellows---he could trust them.

Very decent chaps to know, perhaps to have as friends. And they didn't approve of trapping or shooting! Against scout rules, eh?

And was he---oh, well, it was fair play, and he needed whatever extra money he could earn. Those eagles! Yes, he must not lose any more time. The eagles would have to be the prize of his marksmanship, even though he winged them against his will.

At the end of that week he told himself that he would have to get the birds that day, or give up the hunt for them, and devote his entire time to the gardens. He resolved to spend the whole day in the neighborhood of Eagle Cliff, as he called it; for get them he would, then or never, before going back to the presence of his patient, pathetic, brave little mother.

Accordingly, about five o'clock in the morning, he led the faithful Keno from his stall, and rode slowly down the dusty road until he came to a point where the narrow bridlepath branched off the road and wound upward into the silent woods. Following this path until it became indistinguishable on a thick carpet of moss and leaves and coa.r.s.e fern, he reached the big boulder at last; there he left Keno safely tied and hidden in a clump of alders. Then he went on, several rods down the trail, and took up his position directly across the stream from Eagle Cliff.

CHAPTER III

THE COMBAT ON THE CLIFF

Lying on his back in the narrow trail, with his eyes continually roving over the jagged side of the cliff, Ralph became drowsy, in spite of his desire to catch sight of the eagles when they rose to stretch their wings in the first flight of the day. Along the eastern rim of the hills the sky was paling into a yellow glow without a cloud to mar its perfect clarity.

How long the young hunter dozed he could not tell, but he roused with a start, and sat bolt upright, glancing around him impatiently.

Directly over his head, soaring high over the trees, was one of the great birds, evidently in search of prey: perhaps an unwary rabbit, squirrel, or fat woodchuck, for breakfast.

Catching sight of the bird as it hung poised in mid air, Ralph muttered:

"If that's the male, hunting alone, the female must be on the nest---which will make matters twice as difficult for me."

Even as he watched it, the solitary bird made a sudden swoop downward, sailed closer over the tops of the highest trees, and then suddenly dived into their midst, emerging after a few minutes with a small limp form seized in its talons. With this prize the eagle now flew swiftly and silently to a ledge on the side of the cliff, and uttered a curious loud whistle of invitation. In response, the larger bird, the female, appeared on the ledge, and the pair forthwith began their meal.

Very cautiously, so that his slow movements might have the least possible chance of being observed, Ralph reached out for his rifle, and---shifting his position by crawling forward until the feasting eagles were within range---fired. At the report, one big bird toppled over the precipice to a ledge not ten feet above the foaming water, on the other side of the stream. Its mate, with a harsh scream of alarm, darted up into the air, circled once over the spot where Ralph crouched, and flew hastily away. It was so swift in its flight from the place that Ralph was unable to get a second shot.

Nevertheless, even in his vexation at apparently losing it, Ralph could not refrain from giving a shout of triumph. Hurriedly securing his pony, he made a detour of about half a mile in order to cross the mountain stream; for to cross it at the spot which he had chosen for his ambush would have been impossible, owing to the depth and swiftness of the current.

After fording the stream at the further point---under protest from Keno, who picked his way very carefully and grudgingly over the treacherous rocky bed---Ralph dismounted and tied the horse to a tree. Then he walked carefully along the base of the cliff, crawling or jumping from one rock to another, taking advantage of every slight projection, and holding his breath for dread lest he slip and hurl himself into the foaming water. At last he came to the foot of the rock where, but a short time ago, the eagles were devouring their breakfast. There he paused to get his wind and to look for the fallen bird.

Quite out of reach, on the ledge above his head, the female eagle lay stunned and broken-winged, but still alive. To scale the cliff was not possible, for here it sloped sharply out over its base, where it had been worn smooth by the stream at some previous age when the water was swollen higher. There were no trailing vines or overhanging saplings strong enough to bear Ralph's weight; but, foreseeing this very obstacle, he had brought a rope which he now uncoiled from around his waist. He flung it dexterously over the ledge. To his utter surprise, it caught there at the middle, while the other end dangled within his grasp. He seized it, gave a few strong tugs at each end of the rope to make certain it was secure, leaving his coat and rifle on the ground, and then he began to climb up, hand-over-hand.

Gaining the ledge, he at once saw the wounded bird. After a short, sharp struggle, he dispatched her, and was in the act of tying the lifeless body to his hunting belt when he was startled suddenly by a loud whir of wings, and something hit him a stinging blow on the back of his head. The male eagle, attracted by the shrill cries of its mate, had come to the rescue!

A hasty glance over his shoulder showed him an alarming glimpse of the mighty potentate of the air bent on revenge for the death of his mate. Ralph ducked just in time to escape another blow from those powerful wings, and he struck out wildly with his right arm, missing the winged warrior by a mere inch. He saw that he was going to wage battle, then and there, on the face of that precipitous cliff.

As he drew his long hunting knife out of its sheath, the eagle darted at him once more. Ralph threw his arms up to shield his head and face, and as he did so, his foot slipped. He clutched frantically at the rock to save himself from falling, and dropped his knife. He heard it clink on the rocks several feet below his reach.

Before he could fully recover his footing, the bird was upon him, beak and talons, seizing the sleeve of his shirt and making gashes in the boy's arm. By a mighty effort Ralph got his balance again, and turned to meet the onslaught, waving his arms like flails, to beat down the force of those wide threshing wings. Again and again the eagle made a vicious rush, and once managed to get under Ralph's arm and to take an ugly nip in the flesh just above the eye. Maddened by the pain of this wound, and half blinded by the blood which soon began to flow from the cut, Ralph s.n.a.t.c.hed the dead bird from his belt and swung it around his head like a club. Once this improvised club crashed against the attacking bird, and Ralph took advantage of the latter's hasty retreat to slide down the ropes and land on firmer ground. He tossed the dead bird aside, and lunged forward to recapture his knife. But the king of the clouds was not by any means outdone. Indeed, the sight of his dead mate lying on the rocks, near where Ralph was crouching with his back protected by the sloping rock wall, seemed to put a new idea into the crafty bird's brain. Screaming with rage, he swooped down after Ralph, and alighted on the ground about two yards from the place where the lad crouched in his protecting niche. Then, with wings bowed outward and downward like a belligerent hen, with beak snapping and talons spread wide, rending the air, he charged straight into Ralph's face.

The plucky youth was ready for this, however, and he awaited the attack, knife in hand. He was unwilling to use the knife if he could avoid doing so, for a bad cut might injure the skin and feathers of the coveted trophy. But it seemed likely that such considerations would have to be banished in the face of this horrible danger.

After repeatedly beating back the infuriated eagle, Ralph saw that his best blows were glancing harmlessly from its shining armor of feathers, and that the vengeful creature was gaining courage with every charge. Moreover, in his cramped position he was at a disadvantage, while the blood trickling down from the wound in his forehead made his sight uncertain. In desperation he resolved to turn the knife edge uppermost and to strike with an upward motion as the bird rushed close.

His next blow showed the wisdom of this course. Aided by the bird's reckless attack, the keen blade found its mark under one of those great pounding pinions, and by the diminishing force of the next charge, and the next, Ralph knew that the eagle was weakening.

Another lucky thrust hurled the wounded bird to the ground, where it lay kicking feebly for a few moments; then, with a convulsive jerk, it flopped over and lay still at the edge of the stream.

Ralph slid out from his crevice, and bathed his face in the cold water. Refreshed, he picked up the two splendid birds and gazed at them almost sadly, with no feeling of elation. He was full of admiration for the brave fight they had made.

"I had to do it, I had to do it," he muttered apologetically, as if seeking an excuse for an act which he found difficult to defend.

"Better do this than to borrow money and get into debt."

Thus he argued; but, in spite of his gladness at having won the means wherewith his mother might undergo the operation, he felt a reaction after the excitement of the fight. Weary and wounded, and moved to a pitying admiration of the prize within his grasp, it was nothing to the discredit of this simple, manly lad that he shed a few tears over his victory. Have not seasoned hunters been known to weep over the death of a n.o.ble stag or a gentle doe? And were these eagles no less n.o.ble in their sphere of the animal kingdom?

Almost sadly he tied them to his belt, carefully avoiding further injury to their plumage; and as he did so, the thought crossed his mind:

"Wonder what those fellows and the Scout Master would say about this, if they knew?"

Still wondering, he retraced his steps along the edge of the stream, back to the spot where he had left Keno. Imagine his dismay and consternation when he found the tie-rope broken and the pony---gone!

Keno had disappeared! Had he grown restive and wandered away, or had he been stolen by some lawless prowler among the hills?

The situation, in either case, was bad enough, for the distance home was long, and Ralph was sore and aching in every limb. Knowing a horse's infallible instinct for going homeward, he felt no apprehension that Keno would get lost; yet he realized what a sensation the pony would make when, provided he were not stolen, he ambled into the farmyard, saddled and bridled and riderless!

"Mother'll be scared out of her wits!" thought Ralph. "Gee! I wish this hadn't happened! I wish Keno hadn't bolted like this! My fault, I suppose; I ought to have tied him more firmly, but in my hurry to get the first eagle I neglected to do it!"

Removing his belt, he sat down on a flat stone in the sunlight, and stared at the ground dejectedly.

"I guess this is when little Weary Willie walks home!" he groaned.

"Confound the luck!"

Suddenly his gaze became riveted on a peculiar mark on the soft dry loam: the imprint of a large paw like that of a cat rising hastily, he examined the ground all around the place and discovered many similar tracks.