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"Back water, fellows," called out Step Hen;--"What's up?" asked Giraffe.Page 119. --_The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie._
The Boy Scouts DOWN IN DIXIE
OR
The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp.
By HERBERT CARTER
Author of "The Boy Scouts at the Battle of Saratoga." "The Boy Scouts Through the Big Timber." "The Boy Scouts On Sturgeon Island." "The Boy Scouts In the Blue Ridge." "The Boy Scouts' First Camp Fire." "The Boy Scouts In the Rockies." "The Boy Scouts On the Trail."
Copyright, 1914 By A. L. Burt Company.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I. Khaki Boys in the Sunny Southland. 3 II. Among the Puzzling Swamp Water Trails. 13 III. Camp-Fare. 23 IV. Some Woods Lore. 32 V. Bumpus on Guard. 40 VI. The Night Prowler. 48 VII. The Heart of a Scout. 57 VIII. Looking Backward. 65 IX. "Combing" the Swamp Labyrinth. 76 X. Was the Mystery Solved? 86 XI. Alligator Smith, the Guide. 95 XII. What a Scout Stands For. 104 XIII. More Trouble All Around. 113 XIV. Swamp Tactics. 119 XV. Still Bumping Bumpus. 127 XVI. Ricky's Post Office. 138 XVII. The Sheriff's Round-Up Posse. 148 XVIII. A Surprise. 157 XIX. Joining Forces. 165 XX. The Scouts Show the Way. 173 XXI. On the Trail. 182 XXII. The Man-Trap. 190 XXIII. An Anchor to Windward. 201 XXIV. The Oasis in the Quaking Bog. 211 XXV. Playing "Second Fiddle" to a Boy. 219 XXVI. Polly. 227 XXVII. Mr. Jasper Surprised. 236 XXVIII. The Mystery Solved--Conclusion. 242
THE BOY SCOUTS DOWN IN DIXIE
CHAPTER I. KHAKI BOYS IN THE SUNNY SOUTHLAND.
"That's always the way it goes!"
"Why, what's the matter with you now, Step Hen; you seem in a peck oftrouble?"
"Who wouldn't be, when some fellow went and hid his hat away? Didn't youall see me hang the same on this peg sticking out from the trunk of thepine tree, when we-all came ashore to eat lunch; because that's what Idid, as sure as anything?"
"Oh! you think so, do you?"
"I know it as well as I know my name. Think because I've got a stuffycold in my head just like Bumpus here says he has, and can't smell, thatI don't know beans, do you? Well, you can see for yourself, Davy Jones,my nice new campaign hat ain't on the peg right now."
"Do you know why that's true, Step Hen? Because a thing never yet wasknown to be in two places at the same time. And unless my eyes aretelling me what ain't so, you've got your hat on right at this minute,pushed back on your head! Told you, boys, Step Hen ought to get a pairof specs; now I'm dead sure of it."
The boy who seemed to answer to the queer name of Step Hen threw up ahand, and on discovering that he did have his hat perched away back onhis bushy head of hair, made out to be quite indignant.
"Now, that's the way you play tricks on travelers, is it? I'd just liketo know who put that hat on my head so sly like! Mr. Scout-master, Iwish you'd tell the fellows who love to play pranks to let me alone."
"I'd be glad to, Step Hen, only in this case I happened to see you takeyour hat down, and clap it on your own head, though I reckon you did itwithout thinking what you were doing; so the sooner you forget it thebetter."
A general laugh arose at this, and Step Hen, subsiding, continued tomunch away at the sandwich he gripped in one hand. There were just eightlads, dressed in the khaki suits of Boy Scouts, some of which were new,and others rather seedy, as though they had seen many a campaign. Butthose who wore the brightest uniforms did so because their others hadbecome almost disreputable, and fit only to be carried along for use incase of absolute necessity.
While they sit there, enjoying their midday meal, with two prettygood-sized paddling boats tied up, showing just how they managed toreach this lonely place on the border of one of the almost impenetrableswamps in Southern Louisiana, let us take advantage of the stop to say afew words concerning these lively lads.
Of course the boy reader who has had the pleasure of possessing any orall of the previous volumes in this series, will readily recognize thesesturdy fellows as the full membership of the Silver Fox Patrol connectedwith Cranford Troop of Boy Scouts.
Under the leadership of Assistant Scout-master Thad Brewster they hadbeen having some pretty lively outings for the last two years; at onetime in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina; then up in Maine;afterwards finding a chance to pay a hunting and exploring trip to thefar distant Rocky Mountains, and finally on the preceding summercruising upon the vast stretches of Lake Superior.
Besides the patrol leader, Thad, there were Allan Hollister, who hadseen much actual life in the woods, and was perfectly at home there; atall lanky fellow, with such a long neck that his chums had long agonamed him "Giraffe;" a dumpy, fat scout, whose jolly red face was almostthe color of his hair, and who came when any one called "Bumpus;" a veryneat and handsome boy who had been christened Edmund Maurice TraversSmith, but who did not object when all that was shortened to just plain,every-day "Smithy;" an acrobatic chap who loved to stand on his head,and play monkey, Davy Jones by name; Step Hen himself, otherwise StephenBingham; and last but not least one Robert Quail White, a native of theSouth, and whose rather odd name was soon happily changed among hismates to plain "Bob White," which, as all boys know, is the popular waya quail is designated in the country.
It might as well be said right here in the start that Bumpus was alsooccasionally at school and at home addressed as Cornelius Hawtree; andthat Giraffe would come to a meal if some one called softly "ConradStedman;" because he was very, very fond of responding to any sort of asummons that had something to eat along with it.
These eight boys did not constitute the whole of Cranford Troop, forthere was another full patrol enlisted, and part of a third; but theywere all boon companions; and chancing to have a snug amount of hardcash in the treasury of the patrol, separate from the troop amount, theywere enabled to take advantage of a golden opportunity to visit the farSouth in the dead of winter.
It chanced that they were talking about this right then and there, sothat by
listening for a bit we may learn what unusual circumstances hadarisen to give the scouts this wonderful chance to take a vacation, whenthey apparently should be industriously working at their books in theCranford High School, to which all of them belonged.
"You can say what you like," Giraffe was remarking, as he carefullydrained the coffee-pot into his tin cup, that being his third allowance;"I think the Silver Fox Patrol was hatched out under a lucky star. We'vehad heaps and heaps of good things happen to us in times past; and nowjust to think that the old frame building we've been using for a highschool for years, should go and take fire and burn to the ground, amonth or six weeks before the new brick schoolhouse could be furnishedand heated, compelling the Board to dismiss school for that time. Let metell you it's a mighty bad wind that blows good to nobody."
"But that's only a part of our great good luck, and you forget that,Giraffe," insisted Davy Jones, nodding his head, eagerly, as he lookedaround at the live oak trees, in the crooked and wide spreading branchesof which he expected to soon be sporting, holding on with his toes, andswinging from limb to limb with the abandon of an ape.
"Why, to be sure, I had ought to enumerate the rest!" declared the lankymember of the patrol. "Think of it, how just after that sadcatastrophe--excuse me, boys, while I wipe a tear away in memory of thatpoor old schoolhouse--there was that strange letter came to Thad's bullyold guardian, Daddy Caleb Cushman Brewster, from a man he used to knowyears ago. It was written from down here in Southern Louisiana, and toldhow the writer had seen one Felix Jasper, with a very pretty if raggedlittle girl in his company, hurrying along a lonely trail that led intoold Alligator Swamp, and acting like he had recognized the gentleman,and was afraid to let him come any closer."
"Yes," spoke up Thad, who in the absence of the regular scout-master,Dr. Philander Hobbs, always acted as the leader of the troop, "and allof you chance to know that years ago, when I was much smaller, and livedin another town, that man Felix Jasper was the manager of my mother'sestate, and was found to be stealing from her, so he was discharged.Later on my only little sister, Pauline, strangely disappeared, andcould never be found. It was believed at the time that Jasper in aspirit of revenge had stolen the little child, but he could not belocated; and the grief of that loss I really believe hastened the deathof my dear mother."
Thad was so overcome with emotion that he could not go on. His chumscast sympathetic looks at him, for they were very fond of their leader;then Allan Hollister took up the narrative by saying:
"And his gentleman who happened to glimpse the man and girl, and who hadknown of the circumstances in the past, wrote that he felt almostcertain he had been looking on the face of the long-lost little Brewstergirl. Daddy was laid up with one of his attacks of rheumatism; andbesides, he could never have stood such a trip. So he put up anunlimited amount of spending money, enough to allow the whole patrol tomake the trip by rail; and here we are, determined to stand by our chum,and penetrate this dismal Louisiana swamp to find out whether it isThad's sister and Felix Jasper who are living somewhere about here; orif the gentleman made a bad mistake."
"Yes," went on Bob White, impulsively, for he was a true, warm-heartedSouthern boy, a little touchy with regard to his "honor," but a splendidand loyal comrade for all that, "and we're bound to do it, I reckon,suh, or know the reason why."
"The first thing we did when we got down here," Giraffe went on to say,"was to pick up all the information connected with this swamp we could,which was not a great lot, because they seem to think it's a terribleplace, and few persons ever dream of penetrating its unexplored depths,except now and then a muskrat trapper, or an alligator-skin collector;though they do say it's been an asylum for occasional negro convicts whobroke away from the turpentine camps and were pursued by the dogs."
"Huh! looks some like we might be up against the toughest proposition weever tackled, believe me," Step Hen observed.
"Well," remarked Bumpus, composedly, "we've pretty nearly always comeout on top, haven't we; and according to my notion we're strong enoughto do it again."
"There's something pretty strong around here, and that's a fact," spokeup Giraffe as he changed his seat. "I wonder, now, if the decayingvegetation in these here old Louisiana swamps always tone up the airlike that. Smells to me kind of like rank onions that have got past theuseful and respectable stage. I can see how we're bound to have a highold time if this is a specimen of swamp air, and we expect to breathe itfor mebbe two whole weeks."
"Oh! say, that ain't hardly fair!" remarked Davy Jones; "alaying it allon the poor old swamp, when, honest Injun, I've been asniffing that samequeer odor all day."
He looked straight and hard at Bumpus as he said this. The fat scoutimmediately frowned as though he felt hurt.
"I know what you're ahinting at, Davy Jones," he remarked, hotly; "justbecause I choose to continue wearing my old suit, and keep the new onefor another day you like to make out this outfit ain't all right. Iadmit she looks a mite greasy, because I've helped cook many a fine mealwhile wearing the same. There's _associations_ wrapped up with everyinch of this faded cloth, and you can laugh all you want to, but Idecline to throw it away while on this trip. What's a swamp but a muddyhole, and I don't choose to spoil my brand new suit, if you do. Besides,Step Hen and me, we've got such stuffy colds in our heads we can't smella single thing."
"Then for goodness sake, change places with me, and be a chum of StepHen's during the remainder of this whole trip. Besides," added Giraffe,as he saw Bumpus getting as red as a turkey gobbler with indignation,"it'll balance the two boats better, I'm thinking. How about that, Mr.Scout-master?"
"I was figuring that we could do better than we have so far; and ifBumpus is willing to change with you, let him," replied Thad. "That willbring him in my boat with Davy and Step Hen. They say colds like thatare catching, so perhaps both Davy and myself will soon have one."
"Huh! I hope so," muttered the Jones boy, sniffing the air suspiciouslywhen poor Bumpus happened to move to windward of him; but the usuallygood-natured fat boy pretended not to notice the slur.
"Well, as we're all through lunch, let's make a start, for we expect tobe deep in Alligator swamp long before night comes on," said Allan, whohad the second paddling boat, fashioned somewhat after the pattern ofthe old-fashioned dug-out canoe made from a log, in his charge, beingthe assistant patrol leader of the Silver Fox band.
Ten minutes later, and having packed all their stuff away, the boys wereready to continue their journey into the depths of the thickeningwilderness where the hanging Spanish moss that draped the trees provedsuch a strange sight to them all, and gave such a graveyard look totheir surroundings that more than one of them felt a little shiver ofapprehension, as though they fancied all manner of mysteries mustpresently arise to confront them.
The boat containing Giraffe, Allan, Bob White and Smithy happened to beahead when they came to where their progress was hindered somewhat byfloating logs and other stuff; so Giraffe, without being told to do thesame, stood up in the bow to punch his way clear. He made a vicious stabat what he thought was a floating log, but had no sooner struck hispaddle against it than the seemingly harmless object made a suddenlunge, splashed water all over the boat, and disappeared from sight;while the astonished boy, losing his balance as his paddle slipped offthe scaly armor of the old mossback alligator that had been sleeping soplacidly on the surface of the lagoon that it had not noticed theirapproach, fell in with a tremendous splurge.
The Boy Scouts Down in Dixie; or, The Strange Secret of Alligator Swamp Page 1