CHAPTER VI.
WHAT THE ASHES TOLD MAX.
"Get back, Steve, and let me have room with my fish spear!" whisperedBandy-legs, nervously, just as if he fully expected that they were aboutto be attacked by a legion of fierce wild-cats, and wished to be able toimpale the first that showed up on his lance.
Steve, fearing for his legs or back, seized hold of the long pole uponwhich the four-pronged and barbed spear was mounted, then he felt safein leaning forward again, to see what it was Max had discovered.
"Why, it's a cabin!" he exclaimed, as though somewhat disappointed.
"A cabin!" echoed Bandy-legs; but there was relief rather than chagrinin his voice, and the pole Steve clutched steadied a little.
"Sure it is, and nothing more!" remarked Owen.
"B-b-but, f-f-fellows, did yon ever s-s-see _such_ a c-c-cabin?"demanded Toby.
"Well, it does look kind of queer," admitted Steve, "but mebbe that'sjust because of the shack being abandoned so long. The weeds and grassand bushes have grown right up to the walls; and looky there, the roofeven seems to be green, like grass had took root there. She is adandy-lookin' roost, sure as you're born, Toby."
All of them stared at the odd little affair. Cabins they had seen beforenow, by scores, some fairly commodious, others small and limited inaccommodations, bat never one that looked like this shack on CatamountIsland.
"Anybody around, that you can see, Max?" asked Owen, presently, whenthey had been standing there in that group, watching the green-roofedcabin, and the vegetation-covered walls of the low, squat cabin, forsome time.
"Well, if there is, I haven't had a squint of 'em," Steve took occasionto remark, before the one addressed could reply.
"S-s-somebody g-g-give 'em a hail!" said Toby, sensibly.
So Max immediately called out:
"Hello there!"
No response followed. Although the five boys watched eagerly to see ifany figure that might correspond with the queer cabin came out of thepartly opened door, nothing happened.
"Cabin, ahoy!" sang out Steve, in a very loud, gruff voice, that surelymerited some attention, if so be there chanced to be any one at home.
He met with no better success than had attended the salute of Max. Theboys exchanged glances, and nodded, as if their minds were made up.
"If the mountain won't come to Mahomet, then he's just got to go to themountain, that's all," Owen remarked, as he started to push forward.
Every one began to move at the same time, and in this sort of hollowsquare, with the menacing fish spear gripped by Bandy-legs sticking outahead, they advanced toward the mysterious cabin.
All was silent around, save that a busy woodpecker hammered loudly onthe dead top of a chestnut tree close by, looking for a breakfast ofgrubs. In this fashion, then, they reached the front of the shack thatseemed to have been deserted so long that vegetation was trying toclaim, or cover it out of sight.
Max thrust his head in at the partly open door, while the others stoodby, ready to back him up, if any ferocious thing attacked him. Butapparently he saw nothing of the sort beyond, for after that one survey,Max proceeded to deliberately enter the strange cabin.
The others pushed close on his heels, for they had determined to sticktogether through thick and thin. Even Bandy-legs, spear and all, triedto gain entrance, but in the end he had to let his pole drop to theground, since there was hardly room for that inside, and the four boysas well.
They looked around them. The interior of the shack was certainly aboutas desolate as anything they had ever set eyes on. Not a sign ofanything in the way of former comforts seemed to remain. Over in onecorner there had at one time been a sort of berth made, where the partywho built the cabin kept his blanket most likely and slept; but just nowit only had some dead leaves in it, such as might go to serve a wildbeast for its nest.
Something flitted out of the opening that served as a window, and fromthe fleeting glimpse the boys had of this, they believed it must havebeen a red squirrel, that possibly thought to hide its store of nuts inthis lonesome cabin, though as yet the season for this sort of thing wasfar distant, since summer had not progressed very far.
After all it was Toby, who, as a rule, had little to say, who broke thesilence that hung over the chums as they stared around.
"Gee!"
Whether it was that the sound of a human voice had stirred them up, orthe fact of Toby saying that one expressive word without stumbling, asusual, something aroused the others, and Steve broke loose.
"Well, of all the tough-looking places I've ever struck, I think thistakes the cake!" he exclaimed.
No one ventured to disagree with him on that score, because he expressedjust what was in the mind of every one of the others.
"Now whoever could have lived here, do you think?" demanded Bandy-legs,who, now that his alarm was of the past, could appear as curious as thenext one.
Max was using his eyes to look about. He was always quick to discoverthings that would escape the observation of his companions. It hadbecome a settled habit with Max to always be on the alert in cases likethis, so as to pick up valuable information, even from small things. Thesecrets of the trail he dearly loved to examine, so as to read a storythere that was hidden from common eyes.
And so the first thing he discovered was the fact that some animal, orhuman being, had been eating here not many days back, at least. Therewere a number of small bones lying scattered about, which in time wouldnaturally be carried away by a prowling fox or wild-cat, or perhaps araccoon.
He picked a couple of these up, while the other boys watched his actionswith interest, expecting that Max would read the signs rightly, andbeing content to leave that task to his ingenuity.
"A partridge, I should say, though I may be wrong," he remarked, afterlooking closely at the bone, apparently from the wing of a fairly largebird.
Then he smelled of it, as though that might give him a clew.
"It was cooked before being eaten," he went on, "and that tells thestory, fellows. No wild-cat ever ate that partridge, because so far asknown they never bother with cooking their food."
"Course not," added Bandy-legs, seriously, not understanding the humorof the remark Max had made; "how d'ye suppose they'd ever be able tobuild a fire? Tell me that, now, Max. It was hard enough for me to learnhow to do it, and I'm human."
"Oh! are you?" snapped Steve, always ready to give the other a sly digwhen he saw the chance; "well, now, we're glad to know that, becausesometimes we've wondered if it was so, haven't we, fellows?"
Max did not pay any attention to these side remarks. He was stilllooking about him, as though under the belief that if he hunted closerhe might discover other things that would help explain about the strangecabin and its equally mysterious late occupant.
"I think you're right about the partridge part of it, Max," said Owenjust then.
"What makes you say that?" asked the other.
"Why, because, while we were on the way here, you remember, I steppedout of the path we were following. That was so I could examine somethingthat had attracted my attention close by, down in the matted bushes."
"What was that something, Owen?" asked the other.
"I've never seen one made of twisted vines before, always cords; but Ibelieve it must have been a partridge snare," replied Owen, confidently.
"That might be," Max went on, in a reflective way. "Suppose, now, someman was on this island, and either couldn't get away, or else for somereason didn't want to go over to the mainland. He'd have to live, someway or other, and if he didn't have a gun and ammunition, why, the onlyway he could keep alive would be by getting fish from the river, musselsperhaps, for I've seen quite a few shells on the shore, though theylooked like they'd been opened by muskrats, or by snaring some of thegame birds out of season."
"That sounds pretty good to me, Max," admitted Steve, always ready toexpress an opinion, one way or the other.
"T-t-to m-m-me same way!" Toby followed.
> "A man!" echoed Bandy-legs; and then as a sudden idea struck him, hewent on: "Say, Max, looky here, you don't mean that it was a human beinggrabbed me by the leg last night, and tried to haul me out from under myblanket?"
"I hope not," replied the other; "for any man who would leave the marksof his nails on your ankle like we saw, must be a pretty savage sort, tomy way of thinking."
"Wonder when he could have been here last?" remarked Owen, alsobeginning to look around, as though hoping to discover an answer to hisown question.
Bandy-legs was appearing rather uneasy. He could not forget what atremendous pull he had received at the time he was awakened; and thevery thought that they might even now be in the abiding place of thecreature that had been responsible for his fright gave him new cause forshivering.
He looked up and around, as though suspecting that the aforesaid humanbeing might be hiding close by, and watching them with ferocious eyes.But there was no loft to the squatty cabin, and hence no place whereanybody of size might lie in concealment. Still, Bandy-legs lookedlongingly down at his fish spear, and wished he had thought to shortenthat pole, so he could always keep it handy in case of a suddennecessity.
Max even tried to find traces of footprints on the floor; but as theearth was as hard as rock he did not meet with any flattering successthere.
"Anyhow, he had a fire in here, looks like, when he cooked that bird,"Steve remarked, as he pointed to a little heap of ashes over where thechimney, that was made of hard mud and pieces of stone, stood.
Max saw that there seemed to be considerable of truth in this discoveryof the quick-witted chum. There were certainly ashes there, a littleheap of them, and these could not have been left behind when the formeroccupant of the cabin deserted his home years ago; for the winds ofwinter, sifting in through the partly open door, would have scatteredthe ashes long since.
They spoke of more recent occupancy, perhaps within the last month, oreven week.
"I reckon, now, this is the cabin that boy spoke about, when they calledout after us as we were leaving town?" Max said, half to himself, as hecontinued to look around him.
"And from the way he talked, you'd sure believe he thought it was theworst kind of a shack he'd ever struck," Owen went on to remark.
"I've been thinking that over," observed Steve, "and come to thisconclusion--that they must have started to spend the night in this samecabin, and perhaps the ashes there are some from their fire. Then duringthe night they got their bad scare, which none of them would ever tellabout, on any account. It must have come from _something_ that they sawin this same cabin; and whatever it was, it sent the whole bunch on therun for their boat. They said they nearly killed themselves as theybumped into trees, fell over vines, straddled stumps; and when they cameback to town they sure looked as if they had been through a fight."
"And this is that queer old cabin he said we'd run across?" venturedBandy-legs, again turning to cast his eyes about him, this time in moreof an awed manner than before, though the shack had not changed itsappearance one iota meanwhile.
"But you see, boys," Max remarked, with a smile, "they started to bunkin here, and we don't mean to bother ourselves trying that, when we'vegot our good tents along. So, after all, I don't see why we shouldn't beable to stick it out the full week, and go back to laugh at Herb."
As he was speaking Max stepped across the interior of the desertedgreen-roofed cabin. Knowing that some notion had appealed to him, theothers watched to see what he would do. They saw him stoop down besidethe little pile of gray-looking ashes that lay in the fireplace.
"Watch him!" said Owen, beginning to suspect the truth.
Max thrust his hand down upon the heap; then he quickly moved it so asto further penetrate the ashes; after which he sprang hastily to hisfeet, exclaiming:
"Of course I don't pretend to say who the party was that devoured thatpartridge, fellows, but he must have had it for his supper _last night_;and there's been fire here up to this morning, _because the ashes arestill warm!_"
The Strange Cabin on Catamount Island Page 6