44CHAPTER VI
SIGNS OF MORE TROUBLE
They had a most bountiful spread that evening. Steve and Toby insisted on taking charge, and getting up the meal. Besides the fish, which by the way were most delightfully browned in the pan, and proved a great hit with the three boys, there was boiled rice, baked potatoes, warmed-up corned beef (from the tin), and finally as dessert sliced peaches, the California variety; besides the customary coffee, without which a meal in camp would seem decidedly poor.
All of them fairly “stuffed” after the manner of vigorous boys with not a care in the wide world, and plenty more food where that came from. After supper was over they had to lie around and take things easy for a while, inventing all manner of excuses for so doing, when in reality not one of them felt capable of moving.
“I must say the bass up the river seem to taste a whole lot better than down our way,” remarked Toby, reflectively. “Sometimes when I’ve fetched a string home with me, and the cook prepared them for the table they had what seemed like a muddy flavor. It may have been because the river ran high just then, and this affected the fish more or less.”
45“Don’t you believe it,” snapped Steve, philosophically. “The difference was in the surroundings, and the kind of appetite you had. No matter if a fellow does think he’s hungry at home, when he sits down to a white tablecloth, and silver, and cut-glass, and all that sort of stuff it sort of dulls the edge of his appetite. Then again he has to just wait his turn to be served, and mustn’t forget his table manners if he knows what’s good for him. But say, up in the woods he can just revert back to the habits of primeval man from whose loins he sprang, and his appetite compares to that of the wolf. Oh! things do taste altogether different, somehow or other; and meals seem an awful long time apart.”
“What’s on your mind, Toby?” asked Jack, a short time afterwards, when he noticed the other looking pensive, as though his thoughts might be busy.
“Oh! I was only wondering whether we’d hear that queer old booming sound again tonight, that’s all, Jack; and mebbe, too, I was trying to figure out just how he manages to make it.”
Jack smiled.
“Everything comes to him who waits, Toby,” he said, simply; “and so don’t worry yourself about things yet awhile. Let me shoulder the burden; if it gets too heavy a load for one fellow to carry be sure I’ll call on you two for help.”
Then he deftly guided the conversation into other channels. There was plenty to talk about, 46 for these were observing lads, who kept their eyes open no matter where they might be; and every little while Toby would remember something he had noticed as he made his way to or from the river, that he must describe in order to arouse Jack’s interest, and cause him to decide on a trip across country soon.
They sat up fairly late, for there was a peculiar fascination about the crackling campfire that held them spellbound. They clasped their hands about their knees, and stared into the glowing heart of the fire, as though capable of seeing all manner of fantastic figures dancing there like madcap sprites. It was the old, old story that never dies out, the spirit of devotion that mankind pays to the element which he had compelled to serve him so well in a thousand different ways, but principally to cook his food, and warm his chilled body.
Finally Toby admitted that his eyes were closing in spite of himself, and Steve on hearing that frank confession commenced to yawn at a terrific rate; so Jack said for one he meant to creep between his blankets and get some sleep.
All seemed well as they retired within the tent where, by the light of the lantern, they could finish their disrobing, and don their warm flannel winter pajamas, which, at Jack’s suggestion, they had fetched along with them, because he knew how chilly the nights become in camp even during the “good old summer-time.”
After all Toby had his fears for nothing, because 47 he was not aroused by any mysterious explosion. If anything of the sort happened he certainly failed to hear it, and slept through the night.
When morning arrived they were on the job again, as Steve termed it; that is, taking their waking-up exercises in front of the tent by doing a number of gymnastic feats, and then after dressing proceeding with breakfast.
“So far we’ve been favored with good weather,” remarked Steve, as they sat on the logs, and enjoyed the meal thus prepared. “Not a drop of rain, and while fairly hot nothing unseasonable, to make us sizzle along toward three in the afternoon. But seems to me there’s a change due before long. I don’t quite like the looks of the sun this morning; and it came up glowing red in the bargain.”
“So it did, Steve,” assented Toby, “and they say that’s a good sign of stormy weather. Well, all we can do is take things as they come, the bad with the good. When fellows camp out for two weeks they ought to go prepared for wet as well as dry weather. I’ve fetched along my rain-coat, and the rubber cap that keeps your neck dry in the toughest of a downpour; and rubber boots, so why should I worry?”
“Since you’re prepared to be a regular waterdog, Toby,” said Steve, “we’ll look to you to do all the stray jobs when it rains. Jack and myself not being so well prepared can stick to the tent and keep dry.”
48“Perhaps you’re counting your chickens before they’re hatched,” chuckled Jack, apparently much amused by this conversation on the part of his chums; “for there’s no certainty that it means to rain today. That sign business used to make a great hit with people before they began to reason things out; but it as often misses making connections as it does strike the truth.”
“Guess it must be a whole lot like the almanac people,” laughed Toby. “You know they just guess at probabilities when setting down what the weather is going to be six months ahead. I remember reading a story about one of the most famous of almanac makers, I forget what his name was, but let it go as Spilkins. He was walking out in the country one fine morning when there wasn’t a sign of a cloud in the sky. A farmer working in a field called out to him that he’d better keep an eye above, for like as not there’d be rain before the day was done. Spilkins only laughed at him, and went on; but sure enough, an hour later it clouded over like fun, and down came the rain, so that he had to seek shelter in a friendly barn.
“Now, as an almanac man, he thought it worth while to go back and interview that hayseed, and find out just how he could tell there was rain coming when not a sign was visible. I guess Spilkins thought he might pick up a valuable pointer that he could make use of in prognosticating the weather ahead.
49“The man was working again in his field, where the shower had made things look fresh and green. So Mr. Spilkins called him over to the fence, and after passing a few pleasant remarks, bluntly asked him how he could scent rain when not a small cloud was in the sky. The farmer grinned, and this is what he told him:
“‘Why, you see, Mister, we all of us take Spilkins’ Reliable Family Almanac around this region, and we goes by it regular like. When he sez it’s going to rain we calculate we’ll have a fine day for haying; and when he speaks of fair weather, why we just naturally git out our rain-coats, and lay for having a spell in the woodshed. And I happened to notice this same mornin’ that he predicted a fine day, so I jest knowed it’d sartin sure rain; and, sir, it did!’”
Both the others laughed at the story, which neither of them had heard before, old though it was.
“That’s just about the haphazard way almanacs are built up,” observed Jack. “Of course in a few instances they do hit the truth; so could any of us if we laid out a programme for a year ahead. It’s natural to expect hot weather along about this time of the summer; and such a spell is always followed by a cooler period. So we’ll take our ducking when it comes, and not bother our heads too much ahead of that time.”
While sitting there they mapped out their intended plans for the day. Jack figured on starting 50 out a little later, and securing some more photographs. Steve, not wanting to spend another day in camp, asked permission to accompany him.
“Certainly you can come along, Steve,” he was told; “if you think your heel is equal to the long jaunt, because I may cover quite a good many miles before coming back to camp again. How about that? I wouldn’t like you to start limping, and be in misery for hours.”
“Oh! the old thing seems to be all right this morning, Jack,” Steve assured him. “That salve was sure a magic one, let me tell you, and took all the pain out of the rubbed place. I’ve found a way to prevent it ever hurting again; and right now I’d be equal to a twenty-mile tramp if necessary.”
“How about you, Toby, will you mind acting as camp guardian for today? Tomorrow one of us might want to go over to the river with you, and have a try at the bass; but on the whole, I think it would be wise to keep watch over our things.”
Jack said this seriously, so they knew he was not joking.
“Why, do you really think that man, or any one else, for that matter, would actually steal things from us?” demanded Steve, frowning as he spoke, and perhaps unconsciously clenching his fists pugnaciously.
“I’m only guessing, remember,” Jack informed him. “It might be a raid on our camp would be 51 made during our absence. Don’t you see, if our being up here annoyed certain people, the quickest way they could get rid of us would be to steal all our eatables while we were away from camp. We couldn’t stick it out and go hungry, could we? Well, on that account then we’d better keep a watch.”
“Jack, you’re right!” snapped Toby, while Steve looked even more aroused than ever at the bare possibility of such a calamity overtaking them; for Steve, as we happen to know, was a good eater, and nothing could appall him more than the prospect of all those splendid things they had brought along with them being mysteriously carried off by unknown vandals.
“Toby, just you keep that shotgun handy, and defend our grub with the last drop of blood in your veins,” he went on to say. “Now, I’ll step out and see if Moses has finished the oats I gave him before we had our breakfast. While about it I’ll lead him over for a drink at Turtle Creek below the spot where we get our supply of clear water.”
“Thanks for your trouble, Steve; you’ll save me doing it later,” spoke up Toby, graciously. “When you fellows are off I’ll wrestle with the dishes and cooking outfit. After that I’ve got several things I want to fix about my fishing tackle–some snells to tie fresh after heating them in boiling water; and hooks that need filing about the points, as they seem a bit dull. Then there’s 52 a guide on my pole–I mean my rod, that needs winding with red silk thread. Oh! I’ll find plenty to keep me busy I reckon.”
Ten minutes afterward Steve came hurrying back with a look of concern on his face that caused both Jack and Toby to jump to the conclusion that he had made some sort of important discovery.
“It isn’t Moses that’s broken away and given us the slip, I hope?” gasped Toby, and then adding: “no, because I see him over there where we tied him out so he could eat his fill of green grass. What’s happened, Steve; you look like you’ve met up with a ghost?”
“We had a visitor last night, just as sure as anything, boys,” said Steve, solemnly; “and we can thank our lucky stars he didn’t run off with our stuff in the bargain!”
53CHAPTER VII
PROSPECTING FOR PICTURES
“How do you know that, Steve?” asked the startled Toby.
“Guess I can read tracks when I see them!” snapped the other.
“Then you’ve come across some sort of trail, I reckon?” ventured Jack.
“Just what I have,” came the quick reply, “and here’s the way I happened to hit on it. Tell me, do either of you chance to own this pocket handkerchief?” and as he spoke Steve flipped the article in question from its hiding place, and held it up before his comrades.
Both gave a hasty look, and shook their heads in the negative.
“Never saw it before,” Toby went on record as saying; “and it’s an unusually fine piece of material, I should say, just such as a gentleman who cared a heap for his personal appearance and clothes would be likely to carry.”
“Well, you picked that up first of all, and it excited your suspicions; is that it, Steve?” queried Jack.
“It started me to looking around the spot,” explained the other, “and right away I saw the 54 tracks of shoes–long shoes in the bargain, making prints entirely different from anything we’d be likely to do. So says I to myself, ‘hello, Mister Man! I see you’ve been snooping around here while we slept like the babes in the woods!’ And so I came in to let you fellows know about it. Want to see for yourselves, don’t you? Then just follow me.”
They were soon examining the imprints. Just as Steve had said, there could be no question as to the tracks having been made by some one other than themselves. More than this, Jack could easily tell that they were comparatively fresh.
“Let’s follow them a little bit, and see what he was up to,” he suggested, which they accordingly set out to do, and found that while the stranger did not actually enter the camp he did scout around it as though desirous of seeing all he could.
“Wanted to know if Toby here spoke the truth when he said we were only a bunch of fun-loving boys off on a vacation camping trip, didn’t he, Jack?” Steve asked, as if to confirm his own suspicions.
“Yes, he actually went completely around our camp, and in several places seems to have approached pretty close,” Jack went on to say, after they had given up following the trail of the unknown man. “I think he must have even heard some of us breathing inside the tent, and perhaps he could count our number that way. But after all no great harm has been done; only it goes to 55 show we must keep our eyes open all the time we’re up here.”
Toby heaved a great sigh.
“Whew! but it’s getting some exciting, let me tell you, fellows. All the while you’re gone today I’ll be nervous and think I heard footsteps every time a gray squirrel whisks around a tree, or barks at me so sassy like.”
“Do you think this could be the same man who talked with Toby yesterday, Jack?” Steve inquired.
“We can guess that it must have been,” came the answer. “He wasn’t wholly satisfied with things, and dropped over in the night to learn if this camp was actually run by boys. You see how wise the lady was, after all, for if this party had run upon three men in camp up here, the chances are he’d be more apt to suspect their motives.”
Steve shook his head as though ready to give it up. He never in all his life had been so thoroughly mystified as just then. Toby, too, had an anxious expression on his face, as though he would give considerable if only Jack felt disposed to explain the whole matter. But Jack held his peace; apparently nothing could induce him to betray the confidence of the lady who had trusted him. When the right time arrived, he would divulge the secret; but until then both his chums must content themselves with taking it out in speculations.
Finally, Jack began to collect his photographic 56 paraphernalia as though about to get ready to start forth on his tramp. Steve had meanwhile looked after a “light lunch,” which he facetiously called a “snack”; though it filled two of his coat pockets, and Jack had some difficulty in stowing away his portion.
Toby eyed these amazing preparations with something akin to awe.
“Say, do you really expect to come back tonight, or are you figuring on staying out a whole week?” he asked plaintively; at which Jack, taking compassion on him, hastened to assure Toby there was no cause for worry.
“You know Steve’s weakness,” he went on to say aside, “and of course he is always in deadly fear of starving to death. That’s why he loads himself down so with grub on the least provocation. But never expect to see a crumb come back, for that would be against Steve’s principles, you know. He thinks it a shame to waste food; and so he’d stuff himself until he could hardly breathe rather than throw anything away. We may be a little late in the afternoon, but we’ll bob up serenely long before dark comes.”
So they set out, Toby waving them goodbye with his dish towel, for he had started in to do the breakfast things.
For a whole they walked along, observing everything that seemed worth their attention. Then Steve took note of a certain fact which he deemed significant. This was that Jack was heading in 57 an almost straight line, as though he had arranged a plan of campaign for that day; and also that if they kept along that course, sooner or later they were bound to fetch up in the neighborhood of the place where that strange booming sound had originated.
This fact agitated Steve, and made him think many things. He even found himself speculating upon the chances of their running across the stranger who was taking such a deep interest in their presence in the Pontico Hills country.
Jack did not make any pretense at hurrying. He was taking his time, it seemed, and enjoying the scenery around him. A thousand things called for exclamation of delight, for the woods looked especially grand with the sun glinting on the green foliage of the various trees, some of which were veritable forest monarchs.
Once before noon arrived, Jack stopped short. The largest tree thus far encountered confronted them. Just what size butt it had I should be afraid to say, for fear I might not be believed, but it was perfectly enormous.
“I must try to get a shot at that dandy oak,” said Jack, with bubbling enthusiasm, such as becomes an amateur photographer who loves his calling. “Never have I set eyes on such a majestic king of the woods. I’m sure it will make a splendid picture with you standing alongside, Steve, just to show its enormous girth. The pity of it is that I can’t dream of trying to get the whole tree 58 in the picture, for no camera could do that in these dense woods, where you can’t get far away from the object you’re photographing.”
He found that the side toward the sun was after all the best for his purpose, and accordingly, after a little maneuvering, Jack secured a picture of the tremendous monarch of the woods.
“I guess now he was a pretty hefty old tree when Columbus discovered America,” said Steve, afterwards, as he tried to measure the butt by passing around it many times with his arms fully extended. “Just think of all the stirring events in history that this giant has outlived. It makes a fellow look up with respect, and feel as if he wanted to take off his cap to the patriarch, doesn’t it, Jack?”
“You give him the right name when you say that, for a fact, Steve; because there’s no way of our telling just how many hundred years he has stood right in this same spot.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m not a tree,” grinned Steve, “because it must be terribly monotonous staying all your life rooted to the ground, and never seeing anything of this beautiful world. As for me, I want to travel when I grow up, and look on every foreign land. Going on now, Jack, are you? Soon be time to take a little noon rest, and lighten the loads we’re carrying in our pockets.”
“Given half an hour more and it’ll be noon,” Jack informed him, after taking a look aloft to where the beaming sun was high in the heavens. 59 “I never like to eat lunch until then, so let’s wait a bit. Besides, I’m not quite as hungry as I ought to be to do justice to all that stuff you put in my pockets.”
After that Jack did not seem anxious to snap off further pictures, though they came across a number that would have made excellent ones. Steve wondered whether he might not be saving his film for something more important. Even the thought gave a delicious little thrill, his imagination was so highly excited by now.
Then came the time when Jack, taking another look aloft, announced that the sun had reached his zenith, or nearest point overhead. That was good news for Steve, although truth to tell he had for some time been slily nibbling at the contents of one of the packages he carried in his pockets, unable to resist the temptation while the opportunity was within his grasp.
Fortune favored them again; but then possibly the presence of that sweet singing little rivulet that meandered through the forest may have had something to do with Jack’s decision to stop for lunch; he was always seeing these small but very important things, as Steve very well knew.
They found a mossy bank and sat down, Steve with a great sigh of contentment; but whether this was caused by the fact that his lame foot was hurting him a bit again, or just from plain delight over the arrival of “feeding time,” it would be hard to say; nor, indeed, fair to big Steve, who 60 might have his weaknesses, but on the whole was a real good fellow.
Here the pair sat and ate and drank of the cold water until they had fully satisfied the inner man. After all, Steve was compelled to wrap up part of his lunch again, being utterly unable to devour it.
“Huh! guess that time my eyes were bigger ’n my stomach,” he grunted, being too full for much speaking; “but, then, never mind, we are quite a ways from camp, and I often take a little bite around three in the afternoon, even when I’m home. So it isn’t going to be wasted, believe me.”
“Only waisted,” laughingly said Jack, and then apologized for getting off such an atrocious pun.
They decided to lie around for an hour, and then push on a little farther before turning back. That Jack figured would bring them to the camp by the triangle oaks an hour or so before darkness came on, which was time enough.
It was very pleasant for Steve, lying there on his back, and feeling the gentle breeze fan his heated face; for around about noon the sun’s rays began to grow pretty fervid, and Steve often mopped his perspiring and beaming face, though taking it good naturedly.
Both of them shut their eyes and rested, though not meaning to even take what Steve was pleased to call a “cat nap.” It was peculiarly still just at that hour after the middle of the day. The little woods animals must all be sleeping in their burrows, 61 or the hollow trees where they had their nests. Even the inquisitive squirrels were only noticeable by their absence. A scolding bevy of crows alighted in a tree some distance off, and kept up what Steve called facetiously a “crow caucus.”
The time Jack meant to remain there resting, had almost expired when both of the boys suddenly sat up, and held their heads in a listening attitude.
62CHAPTER VIII
WHEN THE CAT RULED THE ROOST
“I’ve heard foxes bark before, Jack,” said Steve, with a trace of excitement in his manner, “but never like that. I reckon now those bowwows were plain dog!”
“Sure thing,” remarked his companion, nodding his head at the same time, while a pleased look flashed athwart his face.
“It wasn’t so far away, either, was it?” continued Steve, meditatively. “We have the air in our favor, that’s true, but the sound was pretty strong. Huh! seems as if we may not be the only campers in this stretch of the Pontico Hills. Other folks have taken a notion to come up here. I wonder if they can be Chester fellows, or from some other place.”
“It doesn’t matter much to us who they are, since we don’t intend to mix with them,” said Jack, drily.
“That was a pretty husky bark, Jack, and I should say on a venture the beast might be a fair-sized dog. I think I’ll look around for a nice club as we saunter along. Never did fancy being jumped on by a mastiff, or a vicious collie. Been bitten twice already, and the third time might be fatal to poor little Stephen.”
63“That isn’t a bad idea,” his mate told him; “and I’ll copy your example. Then if we are unlucky enough to run smack into the beast, we can keep him at bay anyhow until his owners come up and rescue us. But I’d a heap rather not have it happen. As you say, the air is coming toward us, which is a good thing; for in that case even a dog with a good nose wouldn’t be apt to get our scent in a hurry.”
Jack now evinced a disposition to move on. It was as if that series of gruff barks from the unseen dog had acted as a sort of challenge; and having a duty to perform he meant to carry it out grimly.
They accordingly walked on, not making any kind of haste. Indeed, Jack showed a disposition to act cautiously. He was continually keeping a careful vigil, and, as a rule, his eyes were directed ahead. There seemed to be no longer a disposition to look for beautiful vistas that might draw forth exclamations of delight; and as for snapping off a picture, why, Jack had slung his camera back of his shoulder with a final air that told he had put such an idea completely out of his head.
As the minutes passed and they heard no further indications of the dog’s presence near by, they concluded that he must have gone back to his day dreams. Steve found himself more than ever puzzled by the actions of his companion. He wished harder than before that Jack would lift the veil a little, and tell him what it all meant, who 64 that man might be, and what he was doing up there among the hills that would bear watching.
It began to get real exciting once, when Jack suddenly ducked and pulled Steve down with him, as though he had glimpsed something suspicious. Valiant Steve gripped his club with a firmer clutch, took a big breath, and awaited the coming of the savage dog; for he believed nothing less than this was about to confront them.
Jack raised his head so that he might see above the bushes behind which they chanced to be crouching. Then he gave a low chuckle as of amusement.
“False alarm after all, Steve!” he whispered. “See, it was only a red fox scuttling away, with his big brush dangling behind him. He was just waking up after his afternoon nap, and wondering where he could get a fat partridge for his supper when our coming disturbed him. I just caught a glimpse of something moving, and on the spur of the moment of course could think only of the dog.”
Steve breathed freely again. He also knocked on the ground a bit savagely with that elegant club of his.
“Well, I’m just as well pleased, Jack,” he remarked, “though I had it made up to give the brute all that was coming to him. Once let me get a fair crack at him with this stick, and he’ll go daffy, I warrant you. I’ll put all the vim into the blow that stands for a home-run hit on the diamond. 65 But remember, I don’t like dog, and I’m not aching for a chance to make the try.”
So again they started along, still heading straight toward the region out of which had come that tell-tale barking. They had come to a still wilder section of country by now. The land was cut up by little ridges and gullies and walking proved more tiresome. Jack appeared to notice this fact, as though it might have a certain significance in his eyes. To Steve, however, it only meant that there must be more chances of game holding forth amidst these dark and gloomy depressions, where trees and heavy undergrowth combined to make an almost impassable stretch.
While there was really no trail for them to follow, it happened that the easiest way to make progress took them along a direct line. On either hand the impediments seemed to be such as to discourage any variation from their course. Only with considerable effort could they have pushed through the tangled vegetation, and for one, Jack did not seem disposed to try it.
Then something happened.
“Oh! did you hear that, Jack?” gasped Steve.
Both of them had come to an abrupt halt, and were standing there, straining their eyes to see what lay ahead of them.
“The first time it was a dog,” muttered Jack, as if communing with himself; “and now, unless I’m might mistaken, that meant cat!”
“Cat!” echoed Steve, incredulously. “Why, it 66 was a whole lot louder noise than any cat I ever ran across could make! a snarl that sent a cold chill racing up and down my backbone. Cat? What sort of a cat would you call it, Jack?”
“A wild cat, if anything,” replied the other, neither of them stirring as yet. “Look around you and tell me if anybody could imagine a better place for such a beast to live in. And I think I’ve located it. We can find out quickly enough by making a move as if to go on.”
He suited the action to the words. Instantly there came the repetition of that vicious snarl. It seemed to contain all the concentrated essence of savage hatred, and sent another shiver over Steve.
“Now I can see the critter, Jack!” snapped Steve, extending his club to point toward a certain tree standing directly in their path. “Crouching right on that lower limb. Oh! how his yellow eyes glare at us! Excuse me from wanting to come to close quarters with such a demon.”
“For one thing, you’ve settled on the wrong gender, Steve,” remarked Jack in a fairly cool tone; “because if you look sharper you’ll see two other puffy balls close by the first one. Those are half-grown whelps, and the mother stands ready to defend them to the last ounce of her strength, and drop of blood. We’ve surprised Mrs. Cat at home.”
“Yes, you’re right there, Jack, those must be cubs, for I saw one move just then. But with such a combination against us what are we going 67 to do? Surely you won’t think of trying to scare the old cat away?”
“Twenty armed men couldn’t do that, so long as her kits were in danger,” Jack told him. “If we still mean to advance there’s only one way to do it. We can’t fly over, and consequently it’s up to us to go around, or else turn back and acknowledge ourselves baffled.”
“I hate to do that last the worst thing,” grumbled Steve, giving another whack at the ground with his long club, shaped somewhat like a baseball bat; “but whatever you say goes, Jack.”
“It looks a trifle easier traveling over on the left,” observed Jack, “so let’s make our try there.”
When they started, there was another volley of snarls from the beast in the tree, evidently laboring under the impression that this flank movement had some bearing on the safety of her precious offspring.
Steve kept his eyes turned in that quarter about as much as he used them to take notice of the way he was going. Every unusually loud snarl made him think the cat was about to launch herself toward them in an attack; so that the boy was kept worked up to fever heat all the time.
“She’s on the move, Jack!” he now hissed. “I saw her leap down to the ground and run along. Say, she’s keeping on a line with us, would you believe it?”
Jack took a look himself in order to be convinced.
68“You’re right there, Steve,” he said, with a short laugh. “After all our trying this little dodge may not be worth the candle.”
“She’s bent on keeping us from advancing, seems like,” complained Steve. “Why, the pesky thing acts like she had a mortgage on all that stretch of woods beyond here, and didn’t mean to let us foreclose on her either.”
“One thing sure, she isn’t afraid of two fellows like us,” chuckled Jack. “Even our clubs have no terror for the mother of the kitties. Why, if we dared push on ahead she’d jump at us like a flash.”
“I certainly feel cheap, being held up like this by an ordinary cat,” gritted the burly Steve between his teeth.
“When you’re up against an enraged wildcat mother,” Jack told him, “and without a sign of a gun to back you, that’s the time to spell prudence in big capital letters. They’ve got terrible claws, and can use them to tear a fellow’s clothes to ribbons, not to mention what they’ll do to your hide. No use talking, Steve, if the miserable beast is dead set on keeping us from going on we’ll have to own up beaten, and retire with our skins whole.”
“I’ve lost track of her for a minute, Jack. Wonder now if she’s gone back to her family, thinking we’ve been scared off.”
“You can test that easy enough,” he was informed; “just take a step or two forward, and see what happens; but don’t be too rash, Steve. 69 You’ll need all your good looks when you get back to Chester again. I’d hate to see the map of Ireland across your face in red scratches. Besides, there’s always danger of blood poisoning setting in when a wild animal has scratched you, especially one that is carnivorous by nature. Go slow now.”
The experiment met with an immediate success, for there broke forth a fresh series of explosive snarls even more ferocious than any that had gone before. Steve drew up in a hurry, evidently under the impression that he was in danger of being made the object of an attack.
“Yes, she’s there still, Jack!” he exclaimed, just as though there could be any doubt of such a thing.
“I saw her move, in the bargain,” his companion went on to say. “She has kept on a line with us all the while, and still bars the way.”
“This is simply disgusting,” fretted Steve.
“It’s something that can’t very well be helped,” Jack told him: “and so what’s the use of feeling bad about it. There are other days coming, when we may be able to pass along here without being balked by a mother cat with kittens. You know the old saying, ‘what can’t be cured must be endured,’ so we’ll have to make the best of it.”
“Does that mean we’re at the end of our rope for today, Jack?”
“Seems that way, Steve; the cat rules the roost this time, apparently.”
70CHAPTER IX
BACK TO THE WOODS CAMP
Steve had a fairly well developed stubborn streak in his nature, and he certainly did hate to give a thing up, once he had got started. Worst of all was the fact of their being compelled to acknowledge defeat through a miserable wildcat; had it been a panther now, a tiger, or a lion, he might bow to the inevitable with a good grace; but cats, in his mind, were always to be associated with the night-singing Tommies at home, for which species he felt a contempt that could best be displayed by a rock thrown from a bedroom window.
“Shucks! I hate to do it, but just as you say, Jack, the beast is set on drawing a regular dead line ahead of us, which we can’t pass without a fight. So when you’re ready give the word and we’ll quit cold. I’ll never feel like telling any of the fellows at home, though, how two of us were forced to turn tail by just one measly cat.”
“We might sit down here for a spell, and see if the brute will slink away,” suggested Jack, evidently also averse to giving up so easily.
“Good idea,” agreed Steve; and accordingly they found a convenient log upon which they could rest while waiting to see how the plan worked.
71Time passed, and Steve kept his face turned toward the spot where the last savage snarl had been heard. He had a vague suspicion that perhaps the beast might try to stalk them, just as he had seen a domestic tabby do a sparrow at home.
When fully ten minutes had crept by Jack made a slight move.
“Well, we can’t hang out here much longer,” he was saying; “already the afternoon is so far along that I’m afraid we’ll never be able to get back to camp before dark sets in. Let’s make a move, and test things.”
Hardly had they done so than once again they heard a repetition of those warning growls. Jack shrugged his shoulders and laughed drily.
“We hear you, old lady with the claws!” he called out, “and we understand that you are still on the job. It looks like she didn’t mean to lose sight of two such suspicious appearing chaps as we seem to be. Well, our cake is dough, and we might as well acknowledge ourselves beaten.”
“Oh! why didn’t we fetch our gun along, Jack?” sighed Steve, looking angrily toward the spot from whence the warning snarls had volleyed at them. “I’d give every cent in my savings bank for the chance to knock that critter over. What use are pesky wildcats anyway? They live on game birds and rabbits most always. If I had my way I’d clean out the whole bunch of them, kits as well as mother cats.”
“Well, we can’t do anything along that line this 72 trip,” Jack told him. “So say what you’ve got on your mind to the lady, and let’s clear out. These woods belong to her this afternoon, and we’ve got no business here.”
“I don’t mean to waste any more of my precious breath on the silly beast,” grumbled Steve, as he turned his back toward the spot where the unseen enemy lay concealed in the scrub.
Jack headed toward the open space along which they had formerly been walking. He had been wise enough to keep this in mind when trying to circumvent the obstinate feline enemy that refused to let them pass. Once they found their trail, and it would be an easy matter to follow it toward camp.
They had lingered longer than either of them seemed aware. This fact was presently brought to their attention by the growing gloom of the woods around them.
“Why, Jack, the sun has gone down, I do believe!” exclaimed Steve, suddenly.
“No, it isn’t time for it to set yet,” his chum advised him. “We can’t make sure of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if a bank of heavy clouds has risen in the west, and hidden the sun behind it. One thing certain, we’re going to have the fun of tramping several miles through a dark woods.”
“Well, so long as there are no rattlesnakes around this section of country, that won’t make much difference with me,” Steve assured him. 73 “Yes, and I might add I hope that mother cat is the only specimen of her race up here, too. It would be tough on us to run across another holdup, so we’d be between two fires.”
It grew constantly darker. Undoubtedly Jack must be right about the heavens having clouded over in the west. Steve found another source for worry. This time it did not partake of the nature of animal foes.
“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.
74“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 passage 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 assurance 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 75 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 grass; and as for our trail, a fellow could follow it with one eye shut. Thank goodness! our 76 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 77 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 78 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.”
79CHAPTER 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 quantities, 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 appetites had been taken off; so he continued to ply them with more food.
80Jack, 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!” ejaculated 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 tasseled 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 81 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 asserted, “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 anticipate 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 passed, 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.
82Jack seemed to have recovered from his fatigue, for he was busying himself in some sort of way. Steve, too well satisfied with his position even to move, watched him for some time, while Toby, like the good fellow he was, wrestled with the pots and pans and pannikins that had been soiled with getting supper.
“Would you mind telling me, Jack, what in the wide world you’re doing with all that dark-colored cord, and those tin pans in the bargain?” Steve finally burst out with, unable to restrain his bubbling curiosity longer.
“I’m trying to save our bacon, that’s all,” replied the other calmly; but this explanation only increased the mystery; so far as Steve was concerned.
“I reckon I’m particularly stupid tonight, because I’m tired, Jack,” he went on to say, desperately; “but, honest now, I don’t get the hang of it at all. What do you mean by saving our bacon? Does that apply to our fine pork products in the wagon yonder; or are you hinting that perhaps our lives are in danger, and you’re fixing up a game to keep us from going under?”
Jack chuckled as he explained further.
“I’ve got our provisions in mind when I designate them all under the general name of bacon, you understand, Steve.”
“But how are they in danger of being carried off, Jack? I wonder now if you suspect that hungry old mother cat would follow us all the way 83 here, with the idea of making a night raid on our well stocked larder. Could she know we must have plenty of grub along in camp? Please explain a little further, won’t you, Jack?”
“It’s a two-legged thief I’ve got in mind, you see,” he was told. “Have you forgotten what we said that perhaps the easiest way to make us clear out of the Pontico Hills country would be by stripping us of all our grub? Well, it’s to prevent the possibility of such a calamity overtaking us that I’m working this game right now.”
Steve evinced new interest on hearing this. He even bestirred himself, and limped over to see what Jack was doing at closer range. After watching for a short time, he gave a laugh as though he had solved the puzzling mystery.
“Oh! I’m on to your fine game now, all right, Jack, old scout!” he exclaimed, as he saw the other fasten one end of the cord to a collection of tins which he had assembled in a heap. “It’s going to be a sort of home-made alarm clock, I reckon. You’ve fixed that cord low down near the ground, so a man can’t get near the wagon without brushing up against it. When he does he’s apt to break the cord and that’ll let the bunch of tins drop down from where they’re dangling. Whoop! what a glorious jangle there’ll be about that time. I warrant you the intended thief will get the scare of his sweet life, and how he will run like mad!”
“You’ve guessed it finally, Steve, though it did take you a long while,” Jack assured him. “And 84 we’ll have the gun handy, so as to send a shot up in the air, and add to his terror. Of course I may be off in my guess, and no one may visit us tonight, or any other night during our stay. But then lots of business men insure their houses and their goods when they never dream that they will have a fire. This cord is our insurance policy.”
“Yes,” sang out Toby, who had been eagerly listening to all this talk, although up to that point taking no part in the same, “an ounce of prevention is always better than a whole pound of cure. They say, too, that a stitch in time saves nine, though I’ve had many a one in my side, and it didn’t save me at all. But Jack, it’s a bully good scheme all right, and ought to work first rate.”
“I can just imagine three fellows about our size piling out in the wee small hours of the night, clad in their striped pajamas, and hearing a scared individual go whooping through the woods, banging up against every other tree as he runs. It will be a great picnic, for us I mean, boys; and I’m half hoping he does come along this very night.”
“How about that rain, Steve?” asked Jack, quietly.
“Why, would you believe me, it has actually cleared up again, with all the stars shining up there like fun? Which goes to show the folly of borrowing trouble, eh, Jack? There I was, figuring out just how it’d feel to be wet to the bone, and all that stuff, when never a drop came down. I had my worry for nothing.”
85“It happens lots of times with most people,” chuckled Jack. “There, I think that ought to fill the bill. The string isn’t very strong, and even a slight knock will serve to break it, because you see it’s being held pretty taut by the weight of all those tin pans. Once that happens and you’ll hear Rome howl.”
“I think I’ll sleep easier, because of your precaution, Jack,” asserted Toby.
“Huh! I just know I shall,” added Steve. “I’ve worried a lot about our supply of eats, and it gave me a pain even to think of them being stolen. But if the trap only works like it promises to do, we’ll be safeguarded all right. If the marauder means to come over the same distance we covered, Jack, he’ll be doing great stunts. And then there’s that cat to consider in the bargain. Oh! I hardly think we’ll be bothered tonight, anyhow.”
Later on they retired to their blankets. Steve declared that he would not need to be rocked to sleep that night, and that there was nothing like exhaustion to induce good sound slumber. Toby had kept himself busy much of the day, finding many things to do about the camp, following out various suggestions which Jack had mentioned in talking matters over, and which of course he had meant himself to undertake when the right time came along. So Toby was tired also and ready to welcome the “call of the blankets,” as Steve humorously designated the proposition to go to bed.
Jack took a last look around. He wished to be 86 sure everything was secure in case a rain storm did drop in upon them during the remainder of the night; or some light-fingered gentleman invaded the camp, on looting bent.
Finally he too crept inside the canvas. They were eventually tucked away snugly in their warm blankets, and had said the last goodnights as the lantern was extinguished, and darkness reigned within the tent.
Outside, the fire burned low, since Jack did not see any necessity for leaving much of a blaze when it was a summer night. Besides, there must always be more or less danger of embers being blown about by an increasing night breeze, possibly to start an incipient conflagration amidst dead leaves gathered behind some log, and thus cause trouble, for it is often much easier to start a fire than to put one out.
It must have been midnight or some time past when the trio of campers were suddenly aroused by a most terrific clamor. It sounded as though all the small boys in Chester had secured dishpans and such instruments of ear torture, and assembled with the idea of giving a village serenade to some newly wedded folks who would be expected to treat the bunch to cakes and fresh cider.
Although possibly a bit confused on being so abruptly aroused from sound slumber by such an unearthly din, Steve, as well as Jack and Toby, instantly grasped the stunning truth–that was 87 the alarm which had been rigged up to give fair warning that their precious stores were being raided. A thief had invaded the camp and unconsciously disclosed his presence in this loud-tongued brazen fashion.
It was now up to them to appear hastily on the scene and add to his alarm in every way possible. So acting in concert they all started to crawl out from under the canvas, Jack clutching the double-barrel shotgun in his hand.
88CHAPTER XI
THE RASCALLY THIEF
Could any one blame those boys for feeling highly worked up just about that time when they were hustling to get outside the canvas shelter, and see what strange things were taking place? The din created by the sudden fall of the bunch of tin pans was still ringing in their ears. And doubtless all manner of wildly exaggerated ideas must be crowding their brains in that same brief space of time.
Each had something to do in the general line of self-defense as arranged for in case such an event transpired while they slept. There was Jack holding the gun as became the leader of the flock. Behind, and crowding close upon his heels, came Steve, bearing his jolly big club, with which he felt able to flay even a wildcat, and he had quite a notion, too, along that same line. Toby brought up the rear, not because of any undue timidity on his part, but because somebody had to “take the drumstick,” as his father was wont to say when they had turkey, and in this case all of them could not be either first or second; so Toby guarded the rear.
He grasped the flashlight in a trembling hand, 89 and his orders were to make use of it just when Jack gave the word.
The night was dark, very dark, in fact. The old moon had not yet put in an appearance in the eastern sky, which went to prove how aged and dilapidated it must indeed be to rise at such a late hour. As for the fire, it was entirely extinct by this time, and not able to render the first aid in time of need.
Every fellow, upon emerging began to look eagerly around him. Just what Steve, for instance, expected to discover would be a difficult question to answer. He may still have had in mind Mrs. Bobcat and her brood of kits, and half anticipated being called on to offer fight in order to defend the camp. Anything seemed possible with that brooding and mysterious darkness hanging over the place. Its sable depths might be peopled with a great variety of goblins, and unnatural wood folks, gathered to expel these rash, invaders of their haunts.
After that one general look around Steve focused his sight upon the particular spot where, as he well knew, the wagon had been standing at the time they sought their blankets.
Well, it was still there, if that fact could afford him any satisfaction. He could just manage to dimly make it out in the darkness, for very little starlight found entrance through an opening aloft in the interlocked treetops and branches.
Even as he looked Steve felt sure he saw some 90 object move as though it were possessed of life. That caused him to have another nice thrill that sent a shiver up and down his spine.
Jack was already starting to creep that way, trailing his gun along, which weapon he held in such a fashion that it could be brought into use without the loss of more than a second.
About this time Toby began to forge alongside Steve. He had remembered that he was the torchbearer of the trio, and on that account had no business to be hanging in the rear, when Jack at any second might call upon him to make use of the flashlight.
Strange noises greeted them, of which they could make nothing. Indeed, Steve was of the opinion that possibly two persons were scuffling over there by the supply wagon; for he likened the queer sounds to half-suppressed breathing, and such struggles as wrestlers might indulge in. He could not make it out at all, nor why two invaders of the camp should pick upon one another in such a ridiculous manner.
There, that sounded like a blow; and it was immediately followed by a plain grunt, as though the recipient of the stroke had had his wind partly knocked out of him.
If only Jack would give the order for Toby to flash his light on the scene, doubtless the mystery might be explained. But so far he had kept silent on this score, although still creeping stealthily forward.
91Steve, wondering still, and trembling a whole lot in the bargain, believed he could understand what Jack must have in his mind. He wanted to get close enough up before betraying their presence, so that he could cover the pilferers, and let them see that they were in range of a deadly weapon, so that to run away would very likely get them into a peck of trouble.
The strange sounds kept up, and in an increased ratio, Steve figured. Undoubtedly whoever it was making them must be growing more and more vehement, as though something which was badly wanted managed to evade his clutch. Even the racket produced by those clanging tin pans had not frightened the intruder away, which Steve considered most amazing indeed. He felt sure that had he been invading a camp, and had such a fearful noise suddenly broke out, he must have taken wildly to his heels, and made a record run of it in order to escape the consequences of his folly.
Then Steve caught what was plainly a loud snort, as of triumph. This gave him a new idea, and which was hardly calculated to increase his comfort very much.
Why, that was hardly such a sound as a human being would emit, being much louder, and along harsher lines. Then what else was likely to make it? Jack had said a considerable number of wild game must exist among these same Pontico Hills; indeed, on the way there had they not seen a live 92 doe and fawn; then there was the red fox with the big brush of a tail that had slunk out of their path while they were making their way through the woods; and last, but far from least, Steve remembered the adventure with the wildcat and her kits.
If in the brief space of their stay they had already run across such a variety of game animals would it not be safe to believe there might also be other species roaming the woods, and seeking to secure their daily meals wherever they could find them?
Now Steve had never seen a bear at large, nor yet a wolf at liberty, but like all other wideawake boys he had fairly doted over these beasts when held in captivity in the circus or menagerie that annually visited Chester.
Would a bear, for instance, be apt to make such snorting sounds when searching the wagon for some prize tidbit that its keen scent told it was to be found there? Steve believed even this might be possible. He gripped his club with a firm conviction that there would soon be a little ruction taking place around that immediate region beside which the famous Donnybrook Fair in Ireland could never hold a candle, “to use the language of his own thoughts.”
But then, of course, Jack must shoulder the main brunt of the fight, because he had the gun in his possession. Steve only hoped Jack would be able to send his first charge straight into the 93 heart of Bruin, so as to bring him down immediately. That would save them all from a rough-and-tumble encounter where claws and teeth would be apt to play havoc with their cuticle, and render their faces far less attractive than when they left home.
How about the law? Steve asked himself, for it seemed as though in that minute of time the boy’s active brain were capable of grappling with every sort of question, and finding an adequate answer. Of course bears were protected in the summer close season; but when a fellow’s life was at stake no game law had a right to force him to lay down and allow a measly bear to walk all over him, as well as steal his precious grub.
So in a flash of time Steve settled that matter in his mind, all right. Jack would be acting well within his privilege as a citizen of the State if he defended his property against robbery. No law could touch him for doing that; and then besides, they could bury Mr. Bruin down deep, so that the game wardens would never find a trace of him there.
Steve really felt better after settling this weighty matter. Of course it still remained for Jack to carry out the provisions of the plan of campaign; but then Jack was a fellow with steady nerves, and might be trusted to do his part without a slip-up. Only Steve did rather envy him the privilege of actually shooting a big, hairy bear; for later on what a great thing it would be 94 to tell to some of the Doubting Thomases of Chester. Yes, before burying the defunct beast they ought to remember to cut off one of his great paws with its ugly claws, so as to have some trophy to show as positive proof of their story.
Well, while Steve’s active mind was fixing all these wonderful details with so much accuracy they were all three of them creeping along inch by inch, and drawing nearer and nearer to the scene of activity.
Instead of diminishing the strange sounds actually increased in volume. They were now accompanied by a crunching, of which Steve could make nothing, for he was not sufficiently acquainted with the peculiarities of bears to know how they acted when foraging for food, and climbing into a covered wagon at that in search of the same.
“Jack!”
That was Toby trying to speak in a whisper, but his voice was wofully weak, and moreover had a strange tremor about it that at another time would have made Steve laugh uproariously; but he did nothing of the kind now, partly because he suspected he could not have delivered himself in any stronger tones if he had attempted to speak.
“What is it?” came in a sibilant whisper over Jack’s shoulder; for he was only a few feet ahead of the other pair of crawlers.
“Hadn’t I better shoot with the flashlight now?” asked Toby eagerly, showing how he had not forgotten what his line of duty was, in spite of all 95 the excitement attending their issuing from the tent.
“I’ll give you the word right away, so be ready,” Jack told him, cautiously; but the sounds over there at the wagon continued just as vehemently as before, and it was plainly evident that the thief cared little or nothing about their presence near by. “He’s around at the back of the wagon, and I’m trying to get so as to cover him properly. Another six feet ought to do the business, so keep steady, Toby.”
“Oh! I’m as steady as a rock!” affirmed the one who carried the flashlight; but it must have been a very wobbly rock then, if his bodily condition corresponded with the decided quaver in his shaky voice.