Double Challenge

by Jim Kjelgaard

  8

  TROUBLE FOR NELS

  In the beech forest, just beyond Tumbling Run, a buck so young thatbudding antlers did little more than part the coarse hair on its headstamped a front hoof and snorted. Old enough to have a vast admirationfor himself and his own powers, but too young to have any sense, thelittle buck snorted again and tried to sound as ferocious as possible.Nosing about for any apples that might remain under the trees near Ted'scamp, he had stood his ground gallantly when Ted and Tammie approached.

  Not ten minutes before their arrival, he'd chased a rabbit away from thetrees and he was so impressed by that feat that he thought he couldchase anything. But when Ted and Tammie refused to run, he'd trottedinto the forest to do his threatening from a safer place. He snortedagain, more hopefully than angrily, and when he did not regainpossession of the apple trees, he looked sad. Ted grinned at him.

  "Junior's almost decided he can't bluff us, Tammie. Poor little guy!He'd just about convinced himself that he's a real ripsnorter of a buck.Oh, well, it's a hard world for everybody."

  Ted continued to string clotheslines between the apple trees. He pulledthem tight, tested their tension with an experimental finger and turnedthoughtfully back to the camp. It might be a hard world for adolescentbucks, but if it weren't for the fact that his father was still layingout in the Mahela, right now it would be a pretty good one for Ted.

  True to his promise, George Beaulieu and his six companions had arrivedthe day before woodcock season opened. In his mid-fifties, Beaulieu wasbranch manager for an insurance company. Of the six men with him, onlytwenty-six-year-old George Junior, an insurance salesman who thought hisfather was the greatest man in the world and who wanted nothing morethan to follow in his footsteps, had been less than middle-aged. Theother five were a filling station owner, a dentist, a toolmaker, anelectrical appliance dealer and a printer. Their party had beencomplemented by two dogs, an English setter and a springer spaniel.

  There had been nothing sensational about any of them, including thedogs. Except for George Beaulieu, his son and the printer, none of themen had been even fair hunters. The three, far and away the best of theseven gunners, had averaged three shots for every woodcock brought down.The worst gunner, the electrical appliance dealer, who appropriatelyenough was named Joseph Watt, had fired at least fifteen times for everywoodcock he put in his pocket. Yet Ted felt that the happy man had livedthrough an uplifting and a near-sensational experience.

  Although unpretentious, his guests had definitely not been meek ordemure. Whoever missed an easy shot, which practically all of them didat least twice a day, was needled mercilessly by the others. Not oneamong them, under the best of conditions, could have made even a meagerliving as a professional hunter. Yet they represented the best type ofpresent-day game seekers.

  They had come to shoot woodcock and they would have been disappointednot to shoot some. But they did not pursue their quarry with thecalculating coldness of a Smoky Delbert or, for that matter, with theintense concentration of an Al Harkness, when Al was after a pelt hewanted. They were out for fun and they had fun, and although gamemattered, meat did not. There were so many woodcock that everybody, evenJoseph Watt, got some. But considering the shells they shot, the camprental, food, transportation and licenses, their game probably cost themat least fifteen dollars a pound!

  After the first week ended and there seemed to be more woodcock thanever--the flight was still coming in--they had decided that another tenyears might pass before they saw this again and stayed the second week.They'd left only this morning, promising to be back next year if therewas another flight of woodcock, or for grouse if there was not.

  Ted hummed as he started toward the camp. The Beaulieu party had beenwonderful guests and certainly they were welcome back. If the Mahela wasgood for them, they were just as good for the Mahela.

  Ted gathered up as much bedding as he could carry. He'd been a littleworried about it because he'd provided neither sheets nor pillowcases.But lack of them hadn't seemed to worry the Beaulieu party in theslightest. Most people who hunted all day were too tired by night tocare whether their beds were formal, or anything except comfortable.Next year--always supposing his father and he still had the camp, Tedthought that they would have to provide linens, too. Summer campersspent more time in camp than hunters did, and they were apt to be moreparticular.

  Ted hung the blankets and quilts on the lines he had strung and pinnedthem securely. If they aired all day long, they'd be fresh by night. Thegrouse hunters--Ted had corresponded with an Arthur Beamish--were duesome time after supper and there would be ten in the party.

  The small buck, that had been lurking hopefully near and awaiting achance to come back, snorted his astonishment when the bedding began toblow in the wind and ran away as fast as he could. The little fellowthought he was fully capable of dealing with anything natural, butwind-blown bedclothes smacked of the supernatural. Ted lost himself inthought.

  The camp was completely rented, except for the third week of small gameseason, and it would return a little more than four hundred dollars inrent. Added to that was the money he'd certainly get from John Wilson,and the total was more than it had cost to build and furnish the camp.Some of it would have to go for food and John Wilson probably wouldexpect good things to eat, but he'd get them. Ted had six woodcock, agourmet's delight, in the freezer, and he would add the legal two days'possession limit of six grouse. He'd need more than that, but even afterbuying whatever was necessary, he'd still have enough money to put up ahard legal battle for Al when his father finally had to surrender. Therewould be at least twice as much money as Ted had told John McLean hewould have. If more was needed, and it probably would be, he'd sell thecamp.

  Ted gathered up the dirty towels and wash and dish cloths, put them in abushel basket brought along for that purpose and replaced them withfresh, clean laundry. The Beaulieu party, another proof of theirsportsmanship, had left the camp in fine shape, with the dishes washedand stacked where they belonged and the floor clean. Tammie came in theopen door and Ted grinned at him.

  "Guess we can go, Tammie, and you'd better rest a bit. You're going intothe hills tonight."

  Tammie wagged an agreeable tail and trotted out to the pickup with hismaster; Ted eased the little truck onto the road.

  He'd sent Tammie, with a load of food, the night before the Beaulieuparty arrived and everything had gone without a hitch. Tammie had leftshortly after midnight and returned two and a half hours later. The packwas empty save for the note Al had thrust in it.

  Dear Ted: Tammy cum al rite. This works good, huh? I got enuf to last me anyhow 2 weeks mor. Don't send Tammy befor. The les you got to send him, the beter it is. Good luk and thanks.

  Your dad

  Ted sighed wearily. He'd hoped that, with passing time, the situationwould clear itself or be cleared. If anything, it was worse.

  Definitely out of danger, but due for a long convalescence in the Lortonhospital, Smoky Delbert had told everything. Starting from the FordhamRoad, he had gone up Coon Valley with the intention of finding goodplaces to set fox traps. He'd carried his rifle because there was alwaysa chance of seeing a fox or bobcat, predators upon which there was abounty. He'd known Al Harkness was ahead of him, for Al's distinctiveboot marks had been left in the soft place where the spring overflowedthe Coon Valley trail. Nearing the three sycamores, and without anywarning at all, Al had risen from behind Glory Rock and shot.

  It was a simple, straightforward story and one that bore out other knownfacts. By his own admission, Al had been in Coon Valley the same day. Hedid wear boots with soles of his own design, and therefore they weredistinctive. Smoky Delbert, a woodsman of vast experience, might verywell have seen these tracks, in spite of the fact that Loring Blade hadmissed them. Ted sighed again.

  The papers had printed Smoky's story and most were sympathetic. Therehad even been a couple of resounding editorials demanding that Al bebrought in--regardless of the cost and effort th
at might be expended toapprehend him--and face the justice he so richly deserved. But editorswere not the only ones who had swung to Smoky's side.

  Time, John McLean had asserted, made people forget. Only, in thisinstance, it had made too many of them forget that Smoky Delbert was avicious poacher. He had, instead, become the wronged innocent, and whenTed went into Lorton now there were those who averted their faces whenthey passed him or even crossed to the other side of the street to avoidmeeting him at all.

  Carl Thornton had become something of a local hero. Nobody knew how thenews had leaked out, but everyone knew that Crestwood's owner waspaying all of Smoky's extensive hospital bills. That puzzled Ted, forThornton had never seemed the type to care about anyone's welfare savehis own. But he would do anything that worked to his own advantage, andperhaps he thought it worth his while, at the price of Smoky's hospitalexpenses, to have Lorton solidly behind him. There could be no doubtthat Lorton was there.

  "Cut it out!" Ted urged himself. "You don't like Thornton, but give himcredit, if credit's due."

  Ted swung up the Harkness drive and parked. While Tammie went off on aninspection tour to assure himself that everything was as it should be,the boy took the basket of laundry inside. He grimaced. Modern in somerespects, Al had by no means accepted the streamlined age as an unmixedblessing. He'd bought a freezer and refrigerator because theiradvantages were obvious. But he scorned washing machines and was surethat, though clothes emerging from one might look clean, they couldn'tpossibly be as pure as those that were washed on a scrub-board.

  Ted put the washtub on its stand, filled it with hot water, added soapand went to scrubbing. He rinsed the laundry, ran it through a handwringer and hung it on a line stretched behind the house.

  An hour before sundown, he went back to camp to replace the bedding andwind his clotheslines on a spool. He got his own supper, fed Tammie,washed the dishes and had just finished putting them where they belongedwhen the collie whined a warning. A car, followed by a second, came upthe drive and, a moment later, there was an unnecessarily loud knock onthe door.

  Ted opened it to confront a rather plump man, who was probably in hismid-thirties. He was dressed in a gaudy wool shirt, hunting pants,ten-inch lace boots, and around his middle was belted a hunting knifealmost long enough to be a small sword. His black hair was a little wildand so were his eyes, but his smile was pleasant and his outstretchedhand was quite steady.

  "Ted?"

  "That's right."

  "I'm Beamish," the other stated, a little thickly. "B'-gosh, we foundyou!"

  "You certainly did!"

  Ted smiled faintly. Hunters going into camp often did a littleanticipatory celebrating and evidently Arthur Beamish had been overdoingit.

  "This the camp?" he asked.

  "No, the camp's farther up the road."

  "Good!" Arthur Beamish said happily. "You go in the woods, you go in thewoods! More woods, the better! That's what I always say! What do youalways say?"

  "Same thing." Ted grinned. "If you want to follow me, I'll show you theway up there."

  "Ride with ya," Beamish declared. "Tha's just what I'll do."

  "You're welcome."

  Ordering Tammie to stay in the house, Ted guided his exuberant guest tothe pickup and opened the door for him. Arthur Beamish bellowed, "Followus, men! Ah, wilderness!"

  He sat companionably close and draped a friendly arm across Ted'sshoulder. "Lots of grouse?"

  "Plenty. You like grouse hunting, eh?"

  "Best darn' game there is!" Beamish exploded. "I rather get me onegrouse than forty-nine deer! And I get 'em, too!"

  "You do?"

  "Didn't you ever hear about me?"

  "I--" Ted hesitated. Obviously, he was supposed to know his guest. Buthe didn't, yet to say the wrong thing might mean to give offense,"Uh--aren't you--?"

  "Tha's right!" Beamish said happily. "I'm Beamish, the trapshooter!Traps in summer, grouse in season! Br-br-br! Up they go! Bang! Down theycome! Every time!"

  Ted twisted uneasily. Three grouse was the daily bag limit. Nobodyshould need, or take, more than that. He calmed himself. As yet, nobodyhad taken more. He pulled in to the camp and stopped.

  "Fine camp!" enthused Beamish, who could see only that part of it whichwas illuminated by the pickup's lights. "Best I ever did see! Great lil'camp!"

  The other two cars stopped and the rest of the hunters got out. Even inthe night, there was that about them which at once set them apart fromthe quiet Beaulieu party. They were younger, more restless, and theyfairly oozed that nervous sparkle which so often marks young executives.They were also sensible--only Arthur Beamish and one other had beenover-indulging themselves. Definitely, the drivers of the two cars werein full possession of all their faculties.

  The three beautiful setters that had ridden in a pen in one of the car'strunks were as smartly turned out as the men. Obviously, they werehunting dogs, the best money could buy. But this crowd had money tospend.

  "Come 'round!" Arthur Beamish bellowed. "Wan'sha to meet Ted!"

  One by one, Ted was introduced to the rest of the party and as he metthem, he liked them. If they were young and restless, they were alsocompetent and talented and they had an air of belonging here in thewilderness. Probably this was not the first camp they'd ever seen.

  "Let's go in," Ted suggested.

  Arthur Beamish bubbled, "You get the best ideas!"

  Ted let the men into the camp, watched closely as they inspected it andknew definitely that they'd been in such places before. Their glanceswere quick but all encompassing.

  One of them, and although Ted did not remember all the names, he thoughtthis one was Tom Strickland, turned with a smile. "This will do verywell. Do you know where we can get a wet nurse?"

  "A what?"

  Strickland grinned, "A sort of combination cook, fire-builder,sweeper-upper, dishwasher; we'll want to spend our time hunting."

  "I think I can find somebody. Is nine dollars a day all right?"

  "Sure. Can you send him up tomorrow?"

  "Send him tonight!" somebody yelled.

  Strickland said scathingly, "I wouldn't inflict you wild hyenas onanyone tonight. I'll cook breakfast."

  "Oh, my aching ptomaine!"

  Ted grinned. "I'm sure I can send somebody tomorrow. Everything's O.K.,eh?"

  "Right as rain."

  Ted got grimly back into the pickup and started down the road. Ninedollars a day for fourteen days meant another hundred and twenty-sixdollars that probably would be sorely needed when Al had his inevitableday in court, but Ted hadn't wanted to accept the job tonight because,somehow, doing so would have seemed grasping. But he'd swallow his prideand take it tomorrow. He must think of nothing except clearing hisfather's name.

  Back at the house, Ted loaded Tammie's pack very carefully. Laying outin the Mahela, Al would not expect and did not need luxuries. Ted packedcornmeal and oatmeal, desiccated soup, a parcel of dried apricots,powdered milk, sugar, tea, flour. But when everything else was in, therewas room for a parcel of frozen pork chops. Ted added them and a note.

  Dad: Everything's fine. There are grouse hunters in camp now and there will be bear hunters next. Take care of yourself and let me know what you need.

  Love, Ted

  At five minutes past midnight, he strapped the pack on Tammie, took himto the back door and let him out. Just as he did, there was an almosttimid knock on the front door. He jumped nervously.

  "Go to Al!" he urged. "Take it to Al, Tammie! And please run!"

  He shut the back door and perspiration broke on his brow as he stoodanxiously near it. Callahan, whose suspicions should have beeneffectively lulled, was not lulled at all. He'd merely bided his time,struck at the right hour and Ted was trapped.

  He crossed the floor on shaky legs and opened the front door to comeface to face with Nels Anderson. Ted gasped.

  His one-time working partner was pale and looked ill. Weariness hadleft its impression in great blue
patches beneath both eyes, but it wasnot entirely physical weariness. Nels had suffered some terribleshock--and in his extremity he had come to his friend.

  "Nels! What's wrong?"

  "I," Nels forced the shadow of his former smile, "am all right."

  "Come on in!"

  "I--I do not want to bother you. But I saw your light and--"

  "What on earth have you been doing?"

  "Walkin'. Yoost walkin'."

  "All night?"

  "I--" Nels looked at the floor. "I did not want to see Hilda. I--I losemy yob."

  "How come?"

  Nels smiled again, but it was a sickly smile. "Mrs. Martin, she'shelpin' in the kitchen while huntin' season's on, she says, 'Nels,' shesays, 'the door on the walk-in cooler is stuck. I can't open it. Canyou?' I say I open it and Thornton comes. 'Told you to stay out ofhere!' he yells. He was awful mad. 'Now get out and stay out!' So, nomore yob."

  "You'll get another one."

  "Oh sure. I get another one easy. You--You know where?"

  Ted said recklessly, "I know where you can work for the next two weeks.There's a bunch of hunters in my camp and they're looking for somebodyto do their cooking and odd jobs. Get up there tomorrow morning and sayI sent you. The pay is nine dollars a day."

  Stars shone in Nels' woebegone eyes. "You mean it?"

  "Sure I mean it."

  "Yah! I go tell Hilda!"

  Nels had shuffled in the door but he seemed to float out of it. Tedstared grimly at the black window. He needed the money himself, but Nelshad a wife and five children and whether or not they ate regularlydepended on whether Nels worked steadily. Ted paced back and forth, thensank into a chair.

  Weariness overcame him and he dozed.... He awakened suddenly, sure he'dheard something. Then Tammie whined for admittance and Ted got up to lethim in. He took off the pack and looked for the note he knew he wouldfind.

  Dear Ted: Tammy cum agen, as you know. I'm set rite nise now. There is no need to send Tammy agen for a cuple weeks. Tel your bear hunters that a lot of bears hang out in Carter Valley.

  Your dad