CHAPTER XI
THE FOUR-LEGGED RECRUIT
"Don, boy, look here," cried Bert, coming out of the mess tent afterdinner with a plate of scraps. "Now how are you going to thank me forit?" he asked as Don pranced up, barking and wig-wagging with his tail.
Don's answer was to stick his cold muzzle into Bert's hand and towig-wag a little harder.
"Now, old fellow," said Bert when Don had cleared the plate, "some ofthe boys are hunting butterflies over there and I want you to get thisnote to them right away. Do you understand, Beauty?"
The dog looked up with full understanding in the eyes that said so muchand barked joyfully as Bert tied the note to his collar. He started offin the direction pointed out to him perfectly happy in the thought thathe was serving his master.
Bert looked fondly after the proudly lifted head and waving silver brushof his favorite. The dog had been a mystery to the whole camp. He seemedto know what was said to him and scarcely ever failed to carry out anydirections given him. He had learned a great many tricks in the fewdays he had been in camp besides displaying some he had masteredpreviously. With one accord they decided that he must have been stolenby the tramps, who, in the discomfort and excitement of the other day,had forgotten all about him.
A squad of the boys had that morning been sent over to the hills on anall-day hike to hunt for butterflies and to study ants--the last hadbecome a favorite amusement among them since Dick's talk of a few daysbefore. Bert had expected to go with them, but, as more supplies wereneeded from the village, he had volunteered to go over for them in the"Red Scout," although he would much rather have gone with the "bugsquad." The note that he had entrusted to Don contained a warning to theboys to come home by the main road and not attempt to come over thehills as they contained many dangerous holes and pitfalls. He was surethat Don could find the boys because he had gone with them more thanonce on their hikes among the hills.
Meanwhile, up in the hills, one of the boys, Arthur Gray by name, hadwandered way off from his fellows before he realized it. A strikinglybeautiful butterfly had led him on and on, now lingering on one flower,now on another, always flitting away at the very instant when Arthurfelt sure of success. Finally, with a lazily graceful motion of itsdelicately marked wings, it flew away and was lost to sight, leavingArthur to "mop his fevered brow," as Dick would have said.
Looking around him he discovered that the boys were nowhere to be found.He reached for his pocket compass and found, to his great surprise anddismay, that it wasn't there.
By this time, really worried, he tried to remember where he was andwhich way he had come, but all with no result. The butterfly had led himthere by such a roundabout path that he could not, for the life of him,point out the direction from which he had come. What should he do? In amoment he thought that he had brought his watch with him--more by luckthan anything else, for he often left it at the camp--and he rememberedthat he could find in what direction the South lay by means of it.
By that time it was exactly four o'clock, and, pointing the hour handtoward the sun, he found that the number 2 on his watch-face pointed tothe South: that is, half the distance between four o'clock and twelvewhen the other hand is pointed toward the sun, marks the southerlydirection. Of course, when he had one point of the compass it was verysimple for him to find the others--that being a necessary part of summercamp training. Arthur knew that the camp lay somewhere to the East sohe started to get there as fast as his legs would carry him.
But, alas. The time when we think fate has been most kind to us oftenturns out to be the time when it is hardest. So it was in Arthur's case.As he hurried along, congratulating himself on having thought of so easyand quick a way to get out of his difficulty, he forgot that the passesover the hills had been reported dangerous.
Going happily along he had no warning of what was in store for himuntil, with a groan, he sank to the ground and began to rub his ankle.He had stepped into one of those treacherous holes that covered thewhole countryside and had sprained his ankle very badly.
Painfully, he tried to get up, but when he attempted to bear his weighton the injured ankle, it pained so cruelly that he winced.
"Oh, I can't, I can't," he moaned aloud in his misery. "What shall I do,what shall I do?" and, sinking to the ground, he covered his face withhis hands.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, the boys had missed him and had begun to search all over forhim. Not finding him, they became anxious and looked desperately for himin every place they could think of.
"I wonder if he could be hiding in a cave the way Jim was doing theother day," Shorty suggested.
"Don't be a fool, Shorty," said Tom, rather sharply. "Arthur isn't thatkind. Probably he's chased some butterfly way off somewhere and can'tfind his way back."
"He ought to be able to find his way easily enough with his pocketcompass. The thing I'm afraid of is that he may have met with someaccident," said Frank.
Just then Don came trotting up to Tom, calling attention to the notetied to his collar by a series of short, imperative barks. Tom pattedhis head lovingly and called him a "good fellow" at which Don wig-waggedvigorously. The boys all crowded around, eager to see what was in thenote.
"It's from Bert," Tom announced, "and he says that Mr. Hollis wantsus to come home by the main road because of the dangerous holes andpitfalls. Say, fellows," as the truth dawned upon him, "do you thinkthat Arthur can be hurt so that he can't get to us?"
"Nobody knows. But I know one thing," said Shorty stoutly, "and that is,that I won't leave these hills to-night until we have found him."
"Good for you, Shorty," said Frank. "I know we all feel the same way sowe had better get down to business in a hurry."
All the time the boys had been speaking Don had stood with his headcocked knowingly on one side, watching their every action. When theystarted to go he looked up into Tom's face, mutely asking to be allowedto go too. And Tom answered heartily, "You just bet you can come along,Don. We couldn't do without you."
Then the boys began to scour the woods in good earnest. For half an hourthey worked hard with a dull, aching sensation at their hearts. Theylooked behind rocks, pulled aside dense underbrush, gazed down deepravines with the awful fear that they might see their comrade lying atthe bottom. They were coming now into the most dangerous part of thecountry and they were forced to work slowly and with the utmost care.
When they paused, weary and discouraged, to consult on what course wasbest to follow, Don's short bark reached their ears and in a minute thedog himself rushed up to them. Then, running back and forth between themand the direction from which he had come, he plainly showed them that hewished them to follow him.
"We'd better go," Tom said. "He may have found him, or at least sometrace of him."
So, with Don in the lead the boys started once more. As they went theycalled Arthur's name, but at first nothing but the echoes answered them.They were so torn by thorns and briers and so wearied by the long search,that nothing but the thought that their poor comrade was in a much worseplight than they, could have kept them to their task. Finally, when theywere beginning to think that Don was leading them on a wrong scent, theyheard a faint cry. Joyfully, they called out again and again and eachtime the answer came nearer. When they came upon the runaway at last theywere so happy that they didn't notice his condition at once. When theydid realize how badly he was hurt, they forgot how tired they were andset about at once to relieve him.
The poor boy had tried to drag himself along on his hands but had notbeen able to get very far. The boys bandaged the ankle and then beganmaking a litter. It wasn't very long before they had Arthur fairlycomfortable on the improvised bed. With light hearts the processionstarted for camp, Don proudly taking the lead. The boys thought it wasbest not to question Arthur until he had had time to recover from theshock.
It was nearly dark, when, tired and hungry, the "bug squad" reachedcamp. It is a well known fact that boys are not worth
much when theyare hungry. Mr. Hollis, who was a good judge of human nature, hurriedthe troop into supper, declaring that curiosity could be much bettersatisfied on a full stomach than an empty one.
After supper the boys made the usual camp fire and made the wounded heroof the day comfortable before it. When the preliminaries were over theboys called for the story of the "bug squad's" adventures.
Tom told as much of the story as he knew and then, turning to Arthur,asked, "Did Don really find you there? We weren't sure but that he mightjust have struck the trail."
"He did both," Arthur replied. "He struck my trail and followed it untilhe found me. I don't think I was ever so glad in my life as I was to seeour Don come trotting up ready for some petting. He saw that I was hurt,though, and started away like a streak of lightning to bring you tomy help. At first I thought that he was deserting me, but even as thethought came to me I knew it was unjust. Think of our gallant Dondeserting anyone in distress. Then in a few minutes I heard you hailand answered as well as I could. I will always carry a picture of youfellows as you came into sight, with Don in the lead. Believe me, it wasthe finest I ever saw or expect to see. And now, fellows, I want you togive three cheers for the hero of the day and the finest dog that everlived. Come on, now----
"HOORAY-HOORAY-HOORAY--Now let 'er out fellows--HOORAY," and in spite ofhis sprained ankle, Arthur led the cheers that echoed and re-echoedthrough the trees for rods around.
All the time the cause of all the enthusiasm was lying with his head onBert's knee, watching the boys contentedly. When they all crowdedaround, he took the praises they showered on him as a true gentlemanshould--with courtesy and dignity, only those speaking eyes of histelling of the love in his heart for the boys that would have made himdie for any one of them.
If ever a dog was glad and happy, his name was Don that night. Althoughhe didn't understand what it was all about, he knew that he was beinghonored and showed that he appreciated it.
The happiest moment in the whole day for Don came when Bert put botharms lovingly around his neck and whispered, "You're a trump, old man."
And so the four-legged recruit went happily to sleep to dream that hewas rescuing all the boys in camp.
Bert Wilson at the Wheel Page 11