Boy Scouts in Glacier Park

by Walter Prichard Eaton

  CHAPTER VIII--Joe Gets a Chance at Last to Go Out on a Trip as Camp Cook

  The next few days were busy ones for both boys. Tom had hikers to takecare of now every day, sometimes only two or three at a time, sometimesmuch larger parties, so that he had to wheel down more cots from thechalets. There was much to do, cutting wood, hauling water, making beds,raking and burning the litter after each party, for Tom had learned as ascout that one of the worst things a camper can do is to leave anylitter behind him, and one of the best ways to collect flies around acamp is to leave scraps and garbage unburned or unburied. He even wentover to the hotel and begged a can of stove polish from the kitchen, andeach day, after the crowd had gone, polished up the camp stove.

  Big Bertha, coming down to look things over, found him busy at this job.

  "Well, well," said he, in his funny, high voice, "I'd know you came fromNew England. Must have a clean kitchen! The camp looks well, Tom, andnobody's made a kick yet. I guess we can keep you another week."

  Then he laughed in such a way that Tom knew his job was safe.

  Meanwhile Joe divided his day between cooking the meals for Tom andhimself, building a lean-to kitchen and dining-room for rainy weather,rigging up a porcupine-proof pantry with some old chicken wire he foundbehind the hotel chicken yards, and feeding and riding the Ranger'shorse. Twice a day he took Popgun out for a spin, going down below thehotel to the level meadows where the packhorses and saddle-horses rentedto the tourists were pastured at night, and there he galloped, trotted,and jumped logs till he felt sure of himself, and all his saddlesoreness wore off. Sometimes, after the guests at the camp were gone,and no new party had yet arrived, Tom took a try in the saddle, too, andboth of them, with packs made of their blankets and an old mattress,practiced throwing a diamond hitch, while Popgun, who was being used forthe experiment, stood still, but looked around at them with a comical,grieved expression, as much as to say, "What do you think I am, just anold packhorse?"

  The Ranger did not return for five days, and Joe was sorely tempted toride Popgun up one of the trails again, to the high places which luredhim--to Iceberg Lake, for instance, only six miles away, which everybodytalked about as being so beautiful. But he remembered what the Rangerhad said, and he never went more than a mile or two from camp. It wascertainly hard, with a good horse under you, and a bright sky overhead,and the great towering red mountains all around, not to ride on and on,higher and higher, into those wonderful upland meadows, and then on somemore to the sky-flung bridge of the Great Divide!

  On the sixth morning, as Joe drew near the Ranger's cabin to feed andwater Popgun, he saw smoke coming out of the chimney. The door was open,and inside he saw Mills just getting breakfast.

  "Hello," he called.

  "Oh, it's you," Mills answered, looking out. "Come make me some coffee,will you?"

  Joe entered, and Mills shook hands. "Glad to see you," he said. "I'd beglad to see _anybody_, so don't get flattered. I've been five days alonein the woods, cuttin' out fallen trees from the trail. Last winter was abad one."

  "I s'pose there's a lot of snow here in winter," said Joe, as he setabout making the coffee.

  "Last winter there was ten feet on the level in the woods, and the driftpiled up against Many Glacier Hotel out there till all you could see wasthe peak of the roof."

  "What!" Joe cried. "Why, that's five stories high!"

  "So was the drift," said Mills

  "What a chance for skiing!" Joe sighed. "Say, I'd like to spend a winterhere."

  "Don't let's talk about it," Mills suddenly said. "Makes me blue. Thewinters are too darn lonely. I see Popgun looks fat, and you've beengroomin' him, too. Where'd you get the curry comb? _I_ don't own one."

  "Made it," Joe answered, "by punching holes with a nail through a tinbox cover."

  "Can you ride yet?"

  "Well, I can get around, without having to eat off the mantelpiece atnight."

  "Want a job?"

  "Sure, if it's something I can do. You know, I'm a regular grafter now,just living off Spider. What is it?"

  "Cooking mostly. Tastes to me as if you could do that," the Ranger said,as he took a sip of Joe's coffee, and a bite of the fried eggs and baconJoe had also cooked for him, as they talked.

  "I can cook all right--I learned that in the Boy Scouts," Joe answered,eagerly. "Is it for a party?"

  "Yes, it's a special party--a couple o' congressmen and their wives andfamilies. The Park superintendent wants me to show 'em around thecircuit a bit--have to be nice to congressmen, because Congressappropriates what little money we get to build trails with. All the campcooks are out on trips now, and I'm up against it unless you'll goalong."

  "I'm your man!" Joe cried, eagerly.

  "Well, you're as good as a man when it comes to coffee," Mills grinned."I'll get a guide to help out with the packing and the heavy work. Westart to-morrow morning, early. Be up here at seven."

  "O.K.," cried Joe, with a salute, and hurried back to tell Tom the news.

  Spider looked grave. "I dunno about it," said he. "You know what the docsaid about overworking. I dunno whether I'll let you go."

  "But it won't be overworking," Joe cried. "Gee, I feel great now,anyhow, and it's just cooking, and the Ranger's going to get a guide todo the heavy packing, and I'll be on horseback all the time, and out inthe air, and, gosh, but it's a great chance to see the Park, and earnsome money to pay you back----"

  "Oh, forget that!" said Tom. "What's your pay going to be?"

  "Don't know--didn't stop to ask," Joe laughed.

  "You're a great little business man, you are," Tom said. "Well, you cantry it this trip, if you'll come over now to the hotel and get weighed,and have your temperature taken."

  The hikers had gone for the day, and the camp was vacant, so the twoscouts went around to the hotel at once, and Joe climbed on the scales.Tom set them at a hundred and thirty, but the weight did not drop. Hemoved the indicator weight pound by pound till he reached a hundred andthirty-nine, before he reached a balance.

  "Gosh," cried Joe, "that's almost ten pounds I've put on since I leftlittle old Southmead!"

  "Yes, and you haven't coughed for a week," Tom added. "You're on themend, all right, all right. But you got to stay so, and I dunno aboutletting you go on this trip--it'll be hard work cooking for a whole loto' people."

  "Aw, please!" Joe pleaded. "I feel great now, honest I do. Besides, it'sall out in the open air."

  "Well, you can try it this once," Tom finally said. "But if you have anyfever, or have lost any weight, or are fagged, when you get back, orhave any signs of a cold, or cough, no more trips for you!"

  "Yes, doctor," Joe answered, meekly.

  They went back to the camp, and Joe spent the afternoon studying thegovernment topographical survey map of the Park he had bought at thehotel, overhauling his personal equipment, and then, at the supply depotof the Glacier Park Saddle Company, which furnishes the horses, tents,guides, blankets, etc., for camping and horseback parties in the Park,selecting what he wanted in the way of cooking utensils and provisionsfor his party.

  Mills said they would be out five days, and there were to be two men,two women, two girls and a boy in the party, besides Mills, Joe and twoguides, for Mills had decided they'd need two. That made eleven peoplein all, or a hundred and sixty-five individual meals. Joe began tothink, when he came to figure it out, that it was more of a job than itlooked at first, especially when all the stuff had to be packed onhorseback. He planned for canned soups, for coffee, tea and cocoa,served with condensed milk, of course; for plenty of bacon; for two orthree meals of eggs, packed in a small crate; for two meals of beef(which, of course, would not keep, and would have to be served the firsttwo days out); for pancakes and "saddle blankets" (a kind of pan-friedcake served with syrup, the syrup coming in cans); for bread, of course,if he had time to make any; and, finally, beans, sardines, crackers,some canned vegetables, and jam, marmalade and canned peaches. All thesethings could be carried easily,
as they came in tins or jars. All thatwas needed were the horses. He got everything ready to be packed in themorning, and hurried back to camp to get Tom's supper. Tom was busy witha big crowd of hikers, who had just arrived over Piegan Pass, and it waslate before the two boys sat down to their meal.

  "I sort of hate to go now," Joe said. "I'll be seeing all the Park, andyou having to stick around here and make beds for the hikers. When I getback, I'm going to ask Big Bertha to let me run the camp, while you havea trip."

  "_Yes_ you are!" Spider laughed. "You're going to rest a whole weekafter you get back. You look tired already. Guess I won't let you go,after all."

  "I'd like to see you stop me!" Joe answered, as he took a third helpingof pancakes.

  "Well, you eat like a well man, I must admit," said Spider, reaching forwhat was left.