Boy Scouts of Lenox; Or, The Hike Over Big Bear Mountain

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XIV

  AT THE FOOT OF BIG BEAR MOUNTAIN

  It took them a long time to get settled on that night. Some of thescouts were about to experience their first camp sleep. They had to beshown just how to arrange their blankets, and what to do about thecustomary pillow upon which they wished to rest their heads.

  Tom, Josh and Rob Shaefer, having been through the mill before,explained these things. They even helped the tenderfeet fill withhemlock browse the little cotton bag, which had possibly once heldflour, and which each scout had been advised to carry along in hispack.

  "They'll be worth their weight in gold many times on the trip," saidTom, when even Mr. Witherspoon stood listening with interest, for hehad not as yet learned everything, he was free to confess.

  "But do we have to carry them along with us like that?" asked Horace ashe held up the rather bulky object he had made of his cotton slip.

  "Certainly not," he was informed; "you empty it before breaking camp,and in the evening fill it again. Plenty of hemlock or spruce handy,whenever you choose to stretch out your hand and pluck it."

  "You must show me about all these things," Billy Button remarked. "Totell the truth I don't know the difference between balsam, fir, spruce,hemlock, larch and some other trees I've heard you talking about."

  "I'll begin to-morrow, and you'll find it simple enough," Tom promisedhim.

  After all the night really passed without any disturbance. Tom and Robmanaged to wake up a number of times, and getting quietly out of theirsnug nests, they renewed the fire, thus keeping it going all throughthe night.

  Had any one been watching closely they probably would have seen a headbob up occasionally, the owner take a cautious look around, and thendrop back again as though convinced that all was well, with no dangerof ferocious wild beasts raiding the camp.

  These were the tenderfeet of the troop. They of course could not sleepsave in snatches, and the strangeness of their surroundings caused themto feel more or less nervous. All they heard, however, was the barkingof Farmer Brush's watch dogs or some little woods animal complainingbecause these two-legged intruders had disturbed the peace of theirhomeland.

  With the coming of dawn there was a stir in camp. Then one by one thescouts crawled out from their blankets, all but two greenhorns.

  "Let them sleep a while longer," said Mr. Witherspoon. "I fancy neitherof them passed a very comfortable night."

  And at this the other boys moderated their voices as they proceeded toget an early breakfast ready, though in no hurry to leave that pleasantCamp Content.

  Of course both the laggards were up and ready by the time the call tobreakfast was heard in the land. It may be that the smell of the eggsand bacon frying and the aromatic coffee's bubbling had much to do witharousing them.

  While they were eating who should appear but the hired man of FarmerBrush. He had a big basket on his arm, also a note for the scoutmaster.

  "I have to go to town early this morning or I'd fetch these few things myself," the note ran; "I want you to accept them from me with my compliments, and my hearty thanks for your entertainment last night. I have hardly slept a wink thinking about what you told me; and next meeting me and my boys will be on hand.

  "EZRA BRUSH.

  "P.S. The chickens my wife sends you, and she says they are tender enough to fry."

  Besides the four chickens, all ready for cooking, there was a fineprint of new butter, as well as a carton of several dozen eggs freshfrom the coop.

  "Three cheers for Mr. Brush, fellows!" cried Tom, after the scoutmaster had read the note aloud; and they were given with a will, muchto the entertainment of Bill, who stood there and grinned broadly.

  It was about eight o'clock when the column started once more. Theymeant to leave the main road they had been following up to this time,for it did not run in the direction they wanted to go.

  There was another smaller one which they expected to follow, for thatday at least, and which skirted the base of the mountain, evenascending it in several places, as their map showed.

  "It will be our last day on any sort of road, if we follow out theprogramme as arranged," Tom Chesney explained, as they sat around atnoon munching the "snack" each scout had been commissioned to prepareat breakfast time against his being hungry in the middle of the day,when they would not care to start a fire in order to do any cooking.

  "You mean we expect to push right up the mountain and begin exploringthe country, don't you, Tom?" asked Josh between bites.

  "Yes, and three of the fellows intend to make maps as we go, forpractice," the leader of the Black Bear Patrol explained.

  "All I hope is," commented Billy Button, anxiously, "that we don'tmanage to get lost. I've got a very important engagement a week fromFriday that I wouldn't want to miss."

  "Huh, guess I'm in the same box," chuckled Josh; "anyway I promised tobe sitting in my usual chair with my feet under our dining table onthat same day; and it'd grieve my heart if I missed connections."

  The middle of that June day proved to be very warm, and the boysdecided to lie around for several hours. When the sun had got wellstarted down the western sky perhaps there might be a little more lifein the air. Besides, they were in no hurry; so what was the use ofexerting themselves unduly?

  "I hope it isn't going to storm!" suggested Carl, as they sprawledunder the shady tree where they had halted for the noon rest, eachyouth in as comfortable an attitude as he could assume.

  "Oh, is there any chance of a terrible storm dropping down on us, doyou think?" asked Horace Crapsey, looking troubled; for although noneof the others knew it, the crash of the thunder and the play oflightning had struck terror to his soul ever since the time he had beenknocked down, when a tree near his house was shattered by a bolt fromthe clouds.

  "Not that you can see right now," Josh informed him, a littlecontemptuously; with a strong boy's feeling toward one who shows signsof being afraid; "but when it's summer time and when, in the bargain, aday has been as hot as this one, you never can tell."

  "That's so, Josh," George Kingsley remarked, wagging his head as thoughfor once he actually agreed with something that had been said; "asimmering day often coaxes a storm along. It may hit us towardnight-time, or even come on any hour afterwards when we're sleepinglike babes in the woods."

  "But what can we do for shelter?" asked Billy Button; "we haven't goteven a rag for a tent; and once we get soaked it'll be a hard job todry our suits, you know."

  "Leave that to us, Billy," Tom told him, confidently. "First of allevery scout has a rubber poncho; two of these fastened together willmake what they call a dog tent, under which a couple of fellows cantuck themselves, and keep the upper part of their bodies dry. Soldiersalways use them."

  "Yes," added Rob Shaefer; "and if it looks like rain to-night we'llraise several brush shanties. By making use of the rubber blankets theycan be kept as dry as a bone. Scouts must learn how to meet everypossible condition that can rise up. That's a big part of the fun, onceyou've begun to play the game."

  Billy seemed to be much impressed by this cheering intelligence; andeven Horace smiled again, having recovered from his little panic.

  It was almost three o'clock when the signal was given for a start. Theytook it slowly, and in the next two hours had probably covered littlemore than two miles. They were still loitering along the road thatskirted the foot of the Big Bear Mountain.

  "As we have some extra cooking to do to-night, boys," the scout mastertold them, "we had better pull up here where we can get fine water.That's one of the things you must always look for when camping,remember."

  Nothing pleased the scouts better than the prospect of stopping, andstarting supper, for they were tired, and hungry in the bargain.

  "If we didn't want to eat these fowls right away," Tom remarked, "I'dsuggest that we bake them in a hot oven made in the ground. That's theoriginal cooker, you know. But it takes a good many hours to do it."

  "Anothe
r time, perhaps, when we're stopping several days in one campwe'll get some more chickens, Tom," said the scout master, "and haveyou show us just how it is done. I've heard of the old-time scheme, butnever tasted anything cooked in a mud oven."

  Everything looked calm and peaceful just then, but after all that was adeception and a snare. Even while the cooks were starting in to cut upthe chickens so that the various parts might be placed in the two bigfrying-pans, after a certain amount of fat salt pork had been "triedout," and allowed to get fiercely hot, Josh, who happened to be seencoming from the spring with a coffee-pot of water called out:

  "Well, here comes your storm cloud all right, Horace; only instead of aducking we stand a chance of getting a licking from another enragedtiller of the soil!"