CHAPTER XII
THE GAME POACHERS
Meanwhile, the woods boy was in trouble.
He had walked for several miles through the pines, packing that dandylittle Marlin repeater belonging to Teddy, and really wishing he mightrun across a fighting wild cat, or even a panther, though these latteranimals were seldom seen in the Michigan woods in late years. Anythingin the shape of game that the law did not protect, but paid a bountyfor killing—that was the height of Amos’ ambition as he stalked along.For he wanted to see how it felt to use the gun he had always admiredso much; and even a fierce lucivee would have been welcomed.
Of course, Amos did not forget for one minute what especial object hadlured him abroad on this morning. He kept on the alert to discovertraces of wild flowers, and their busy attendants, the little honeygathering, pollen scattering bees.
Strange to say there seemed to be a wonderful dearth of the insectsright around that particular section. Amos was at first surprised, andthen nettled. He disliked to give any object up so easily; and whennoon came it found him with his head still turned away from the camp,and without having met with any success.
Thinking he had better not go further in that direction, Amos began tocircle around to the left. This movement would allow of his coveringmuch new ground. Better still, if he kept on, he expected to eventuallystrike the shore of the lake, at a point, say a mile or two from thecamp.
It was a nicely arranged plan, but circumstances which he had neverforseen, and over which he really had no control, caused it to missfire.
There was undoubtedly a whole lot of luck or accident in the way thingscame about; but then that can be said with regard to nearly everyevent that occurs. Think of the western railway train that was fiveminutes behind time, arriving in sight of the station just so that thehorrified passengers saw the cyclone tear that building at which theyshould have been stopping, into a thousand bits. That happened just theother day, out near Omaha, Nebraska.
All of a sudden Amos, sitting on a log and resting, heard a deerjumping. Then came two shots, one close on the heels of the other.
A wounded doe ran out of the scrub and fell dead on the ground nottwenty feet away from the boy. Then he heard voices approaching. Amoswould have shown his good sense by taking to his heels just then, andvanishing. He did nothing of the kind, only stood there, and waited tosee who it was shooting deer out of season, and a doe at that. And likeas not Amos would quickly repent him of this unwise, even foolish lackof caution.
Two men came hurrying forward. The first one Amos recognized as BigGabe Hackett and he guessed that the other must be Jared Crawley—yes,he remembered the fellow, though some years had passed since last hesaw him.
Just as they reached the deer they discovered Amos, and both men showedsigns of confusion, which quickly changed to anger.
Almost before the surprised Amos realized what was happening, the giantpoacher had leaped over to his side, and snatched the precious Marlinout of his hands.
After that they could not have driven the woods boy away, for hesimply must have refused to return to camp minus Teddy’s pet gun.
“What ye doin’ hyar, ye game warden spy?” growled Big Gabe, lifting hisfist, as though tempted to strike the boy; but at least Amos did notquail; he looked the other straight in the eye as he replied:
“I was trackin’ around in hopes of findin’ a bee tree for the boys;but just concludin’ to give it up and head for camp, when this deerdropped. Somebody shot her, but I didn’t see who fired, so it ain’t anyof my business.”
“Oh! it ain’t, hey?” roared Gabe, “wall then, I’ll make it yerbusiness,” and with that he placed the repeating gun so close to thedeer that when he fired the sound was so muffled that it could notpossibly have carried any great distance; which was why those in thecamp heard no third discharge.
“What’d ye do that for?” demanded Crawley, who was a tough looking oldcustomer, weaker in disposition, perhaps, than Big Gabe, but, Amosbelieved, every inch as much a rascal.
“So he’d have a hand in downin’ the deer,” said the big poacher, witha cunning leer. “Now he dasn’t peach on us, Jared, ’cause Amos, he’sin the same fix himself. And say, this leetle gun handles great. I jestbeen a lookin’ fur somebody ter make me a present o’ a six shooter likethis.”
“Well,” said Amos, stoutly, “I guess you’re off your trolley about thatgun. Nobody ain’t giving it to you. It belongs to my friend, TeddyOverton, and he’s carried it so long he wouldn’t let it go for a heap.”
“Oh! he wudn’t, eh?” growled Big Gabe, frowning.
“And you know what his father is; he ain’t afraid of any man or anyLumber Trust on earth. Well, the boy’s a chip of the old block. You tryto keep his gun, and see what happens to you. I guess you’ll think someblack hornets are singin’ around your head in no time.”
Perhaps it was wrong for Amos to taunt the poacher after this fashion.But then Big Gabe, being at the time in a nasty, reckless humor, thechances are he would hardly have backed down anyhow, once he put hishand to the plow.
He looked at Amos reflectively.
“Say, them fellers think a heap o’ ye, I guess, mebbe, Amos?” heremarked.
“They’re mighty fine boys,” admitted the other, falling into the trap.
“And like as not,” continued the poacher, a grim smile beginning tocreep over his red face, “if they thort as how you was hurted or lost,now, that Overton boy and the Bradley one, son o’ Mark Bradley the richmanufacturer, would sally out, and try to find ye. Ain’t thet so, Amos?”
Amos knew it was. But he declined to commit himself. Truth to tell, aterrible fear had suddenly taken possession of him. Evidently thesetwo desperate lawless men had been talking over some wild scheme thathad for its main object the demand on Mr. Overton or Mr. Bradley, forransom money, after the two sons of the wealthy men had been madeprisoners.
Once the ransom was in their hands no doubt the two men had in mind anasylum across the lake in Canada.
That was why a dreadful fear suddenly sealed the lips of Amos. But BigGabe read his answer in the look of alarm that shot athwart the boy’sface. He laughed harshly, and then went on to say:
“Git busy an’ cut up the deer, Amos, none o’ yer puttin’ on airs nowor I’ll be tempted to use that on ye,” and he lifted one of histremendous fists that had knocked scores of men down in the days whenBig Gabe “ruled the roost” as the bully of the logging camp.
Amos was no fool. He could be discreet as well as brave. And truthto tell, a wild desire now began to seize upon him to learn in somefashion just what the plans of these two conspirators might be, inorder that he could make them come to naught, and save his chums.
By running away he would lose all chance of finding this out. Andbesides, he was apt to take unnecessary risks, because he honestlybelieved Gabe would shoot after him, using the shot gun in order tosimply lame him.
And then, there was Teddy’s prized gun—how could he have the faceto go back to camp and tell how that had been plucked from his handswithout his being able to make the least resistance?
So Amos making the best of a bad bargain, took out his knife, got downon his knees beside the slain deer, and started to cut the carcass up.The two men sat there on the log Amos had recently vacated, watchinghis labors, and occasionally exchanging a remark, generally to theeffect of how enjoyable it was to have some one to do all the dirtywork.
This was no new business to the woods boy. He pretended not to pay anyattention to what was said by the men. But he saw that Hackett kept theMarlin gun across his knees all the while, allowing his own old weaponto lie unheeded on the ground.
“Now tie up all them parts in the skin, so ye kin tote ’em, Amos,”ordered the despot, when the boy announced that he had taken all thechoice portions.
There was nothing to do but grin and bear it, though Amos doubtlessthought his lines had fallen in anything but pleasant places.
“Pick her up!” ordered Big Gabe,
as he arose, tucked Teddy Overton’sgun under one arm, and his own under the other. “We got about two milester kiver; an’ me ’n Jarda here, bein’ kinder rusty in the j’ints,ain’t as well able ter pack loads acrost kentry as when we was youngan’ nimble guides. Head straight into the south, Amos. And I hopes ashow ye’re too sensible ter think of tryin’ ter run away, ’cause I’dhate to pepper ye with this ere scatter gun; but I swear I will if sobe he tries to skin out.”
Amos knew the man, and he believed him. So for various reasons hedecided not to make any attempt at flight—just then, at any rate.
He wondered where they were taking him. Somewhere or other they musthave a camp. Then he remembered Big Gabe mentioning the fact thatCrawley had a cabin somewhere.
“I wonder if it could be that old place they used to say was haunted?”Amos was whispering to himself, as he walked along, now turning alittle to the right, and again to the left as his captor directed, andoften the butt of coarse ridicule on the part of Big Gabe, who thoughtthe boy was only a little coward, after all.
He did not dream what was passing through the mind of Amos.
After a while the boy felt sure they must be making for the cabin ofwhich he had heard more or less talk, but which he had never seen.
And sure enough, when the sun was only half way down toward the horizonthey came in sight of an old cabin, nestled in the midst of the wildestgrowth of bush; as though Nature was trying hard to heal the scar madeby man’s hand.
“Hello! thar, Sallie, open up!” shouted old Crawley; and somewhat tothe astonishment of Amos, the cabin door opened to reveal the slenderfigure of a girl about the twelve years of age—a girl with tawnygolden hair, a rather small, pallid face, and the biggest blue eyes hehad ever seen in any one.
Camp Mates in Michigan; or, with Pack and Paddle in the Pine Woods Page 13