CHAPTER V.
AN UNINVITED GUEST.
What a truly glorious hour that was, as those eight lads sat around thesplendid camp-fire, chatting, asking questions, and giving information,as it happened they were able.
Of course Thad and Allan were usually called upon to explain thethousand and one things connected with woods life, as yet sealedmysteries to those of the patrol who were experiencing their very firstcamping out.
Some of the other six had doubtless made fires in the woods after afashion, and possibly tried to cook fish over the same, with poorsuccess. Bob White admitted that he had often been in the mountains withsome of the men who worked on his father's place, and had spent lots ofnights afoot in the Blue Ridge; so that he could not really be called a"tenderfoot scout."
But Bumpus and Smithy were very green; Davy Jones knew but little more;and as for Step-hen and Giraffe, they would not commit themselves,watching every move the leaders made, as though hoping to pick upinformation in this way that could be used at another time, and whichwould stamp them as real woodsmen.
To all appearances Bumpus had entirely forgotten all about hissuspicions toward Step-hen. Malice he could not harbor any great lengthof time toward any one, his nature being too broad and forgiving.
But in the midst of an earnest discussion between several of the scoutson the subject of Indian picture writing, which it is recommended allscouts should learn as a very useful and interesting means forcommunicating with companions who may be late on the road, Bumpus gaveout a roar.
"Hey! guess you think my eyes got closed up by that swelling, didn'tyou, Step-hen Bingham? Now, whatever are you sneaking my knapsack offlike that, for? Want to search it, perhaps, to see if that old compassyou left behind could a got in there? Well, you put it back right away;and keep your hands off my property, or I'll complain to thescout-master, see if I don't. What would I want your compass for, tellme that?"
"I thought you might have hid it just to tease me, Bumpus," grumbled thedetected one, as he hastened to hang the bag back where he had found it.
"All right," returned Bumpus, falling back lazily, again; "you don'tchoose to accept my word for it when I say I ain't got it; and so youcan take it out any old way you want. But don't you bother me againabout that compass, hear?"
Some of the boys began in due time to yawn, at first slily; and then asthey saw others openly gaping, they forgot to hide it behind their hand.
"Pretty near time we thought of making up our beds, ain't it?" inquiredGiraffe; who secretly wondered how he was ever going to tear himselfaway from sitting there, his hands clasped around his shins, andadmiring that magnificent sight of the fire eating up the dry fuel thatwas fed to it in liberal doses.
"Yes, after I've gone the rounds, to see how well our stock ofprovisions has been protected," replied the scout-master, getting uponhis feet.
"We've got it stowed pretty much in the two tents, suh," remarked BobWhite, to whom this particular duty had been detailed.
"Think any wild animal might try and raid the camp, and get away withsome of our grub?" asked Bumpus, a little uneasily.
"Oh! hardly that," laughed Thad; "but one of the duties of a scout isnever to just take things for granted. He must be wise enough to makeprovision against any ordinary happening that might come about. In otherwords he insures his stock of provisions like a sensible merchant doeshis goods. He doesn't expect to have a fire, you know; but he wants tobe sure he won't be ruined if one does come."
"Huh! he'd have to pay a pretty big premium on insurance if it was knownthat Step-hen Bingham was around, then," remarked Davy, meaningly.
"I'm going to tell you more about that picture writing another time,fellows," Allan remarked, as he proceeded to get his blanket out of thepile, and fold it double, just as he wanted it. "You'll say it's a finething too. Perhaps we can get a chance to try it out at the time we senda good swimmer over to the island in the lake, to signal with the flagsand looking-glass."
The rest of the boys immediately busied themselves with their blanketstoo; for when in camp they are pretty much like a flock of sheep, andwill follow their leader, or bell-wether, without questioning.
Presently a cry arose, and it came from Davy Jones.
"Say, look at that Smithy, would you; bless me if he ain't got some_white sheets_, and a regular nightgown. Now, what dye think of that,fellows? Are we going to allow such sissy goings-on in this, our firstcamp? He'd hoodoo the whole business, sure. No luck with such baby play.Use the sheets for towels when we go in swimming; I've got an extra pairof pajamas along, that I'll lend him, if he promises to be a true scout,ready to rough and ready it in camp. Next thing he'll be pulling out anightcap to keep from getting cold!"
All of them were laughing by now. As for Smithy, he looked as if hecould not understand what all the fuss was about.
"Why, I always sleep this way at home," he stammered, as he glancedaround at his hilarious comrades.
"Perhaps you do," jeered Davy Jones, who could take hard knocks withoutany whimper; "but mother's darling boy ain't home right now. A truescout must learn to sleep in his blanket alone. An old boot will do fora pillow; and he won't ever want to be rocked to sleep either. Thebreeze will be his lullaby, and the blue canopy of heaven his coverlet."
"Hurrah for you, Davy; that's as good a definition of what a Boy Scoutshould accustom himself to, as I ever heard. I didn't know you had it inyou to talk like that," said Thad, warmly.
"Oh! I got that out of a book," declared Davy, frankly.
"And Thad, do I have to give up these nice clean sheets; and crawl inbetween the folds of a nasty, rough, tickly blanket?" asked Smithy,pleadingly.
"It will be just as well for you to begin right, Number Five," said thescout-master, pleasantly but firmly. "Sooner or later, if you stick bythe Silver Fox Patrol, you've got to learn how to rough it. And if youthink enough of your fellow scouts to make this sacrifice, all thebetter."
Without a word then, Smithy tossed the offending sheets across to Thad;and followed with his usual night apparel.
"I'll take those pajamas, Davy; and thank you kindly for offering toloan them to me;" he said, bravely; but when the faded and somewhat tornnight suit was immediately handed over to him, the particular boy wasseen to shudder, as though they gave him a cold chill.
Still, he proved to be true grit, and was soon donning them, so as tokeep up with the balance of the boys. Thad winked toward Allan, as muchas to say that he felt very much encouraged at the progress being madein the education of Edmund Maurice Travers Smith, the spoiled darling ofa weak mamma.
"Mark my word for it," he said in a low tone to his second in command;"with all his pink and white complexion, and girlish ways, there's themaking of a good scout in Smithy. Given a little time for him to getover the cruel shock these rough ways bring to his orderly system, andyou'll see a different sort of fellow spring up. The seed's there allright. And mamma's baby boy will turn into as sturdy and hardy a scoutas there is in the troop."
Allan smiled, and nodded. Perhaps he did not have quite as much faith asthe young scout-master, because he may not have been as good a readerof character; but he realized that what Smithy had just done was asvaliant a thing for one of his nature as attacking a wildcat would befor another boy, built along different lines. For he was defying whathad threatened to become a part of his own being, and with grittingteeth trying to show himself a real flesh and blood boy for once.
"When we're all ready, fellows," remarked Thad, presently; "the buglerwill sound taps, and after that, see to it that all lights are out butthe camp-fire. I've fixed that so it will burn several hours; and onceor twice during the night Allan or myself will crawl out, to add somewood from the pile you heaped up here. Not that we need the heat, youunderstand; but there ought to be a lot of sentiment connected with afirst camp-fire; and the Silver Fox Patrol must never forget this one.All ready now?"
"Hold on!" called some one from inside the near tent; "I can't find partof my paj
amas; and it'd be too cool to sleep with only half on. Nowain't it funny why it's always _my_ things that get taken? Just like Iwas going to be a target for all the fun that's going."
"Of course it's that poor old careless Step-hen again, always throwinghis things around, and forgetting where he put 'em," said Davy, in atone of disgust; then he took a peep inside, and burst out into a roarof laughter, adding: "Well, did I ever see such a crazy thing? Hi!fellows look here, and see him hunting around like fun for the lowerhalf of his pajamas, when they are trailing behind him right now,fastened to the shirt part; and he never got on to it. It's rightkilling, I declare."
"How could I see behind me?" grumbled Step-hen, as he hastened to getinto the balance of his night outfit; "my eyes happen to be fixed infront; but some of you smart set may be able to see both ways. Allready, Mr. Scout-Master; let her go!"
The eight boys presented a comical appearance as they stood there,awaiting the sweet notes of the bugle sounding "taps;" for their pajamaswere of all sorts of patterns, from gay stripes to deep solid blues andreds.
Thad gave one last look around, and picking up a lantern motioned toAllan to take charge of the other, so that at the last notes they could"douse the glim."
Then he turned toward the stout bugler, clad in the gayest suit of all,and looking like "a rolypoly pudding," as one of the other boysdeclared.
"Now!" called out the patrol leader, in a tone of authority.
So the official bugler raised the instrument to his swollen lips, gameto do his duty; and started to put his whole soul into the thrillingscore that, heard at a late hour of the night, always brings with it afeeling of intense admiration.
He had just uttered the first few notes when they saw him suddenly whirlaround in consternation, and at the same time point with the bugle, ashe shrieked:
"Oh! look! look what's coming in on us, fellows!"
"It's a bear!" whooped Davy Jones, making a bee-line for the nearesttree, just as might have been expected of such a gymnast.
And Thad, with one look, realized that there was no laughing matterabout it; because it was a sure-enough bear that walked into their campon his hind feet!
The Boy Scouts' First Camp Fire; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox Patrol Page 5