CHAPTER VIII.
TWO KINDS OF WOODCRAFT.
All of them lay there motionless. Long practice in this trick had madethe boys almost perfect. What they had learned in play when in camp cameinto good service under other and more strenuous conditions, as is oftenthe case. No boy can ever tell when the information he picks up day byday as a scout may prove a valuable asset, determining some knottyproblem he faces.
As Ned had said, the sound of voices could be plainly heard now. It camein the shape of a murmur that differed from the noise of the frettingsea near by. And no doubt each scout made up his mind that it must becarried to their ears with the breeze, which, coming from almost behindthem, would indicate that the unknown parties were advancing from thatquarter.
Louder grew the sounds. Then there was a plain rustling of theundergrowth; and when Jack cautiously raised his head just a little, hewas enabled to glimpse a trio of men standing there on the border of thewood, looking seaward.
Perhaps they, too, had seen the far-distant blur that marked theposition of the mysterious fleet, and were exchanging comments aboutit. None of the concealed boys could say as to this, because, while theycould hear the murmur of their heavy voices, it was next to impossibleto make out more than a word here and there.
One thing pleased Ned very much. When he first noted the direction fromwhence these three rough men had come, he feared lest they may have runupon the trail of his party and were following the same. He now knewthat in so far as this was concerned his fears were without foundation,and that the strangers did not dream of others being in the nearvicinity.
One seemed to be the boss of the lot. He was an unusually big man, witha way of striking his fist into the palm of his other hand that told ofauthority. His face was covered with a heavy black beard that gave him asinister appearance. Indeed, as Jack admitted to himself, put this manin some of the queer garments of the old times, when Kidd flourishedalong the Atlantic seacoast, and he would make an ideal buccaneer. Hisface was cruel, his manner that of a tyrant, and besides he seemed to becarrying a whole arsenal of weapons around with him.
Jimmy lay there, with his neck stretched to a fearful extent, for he wasbound to see whatever was going on around him. He was possibly sizingthis giant up, and trying to decide in his own mind, whether the deadever do come back to revisit the scenes of their long-past triumphs andstruggles; and if so, could this man with the hair all over his face bethe noted Blackbeard?
Just then Ned gave a low signal. It was only the chirp of a cricket, andmight pass unnoticed by any one not in the secret; but Jack and theother three scouts understood what it meant.
Ned was warning them to be careful and duck their heads again, becausehe fancied the men were about to start their way.
Hardly had the boys flattened themselves out again, than they heard thecrunch of passing footsteps. It was lucky that the three strangers choseto pass by on the beach, as the walking was better there than close tothe trees. Because of this fact the presence of the concealedadventurers was not discovered; and to their satisfaction the partypassed by.
Each scout had gripped his gun, as he shut his jaws hard together, underthe belief that discovery was very close. Had it come they would becompelled to spring out and try to hold up the trio of desperate lookingcharacters. Such men will, as a rule, manifest a disposition to fight"at the drop of the hat;" and Ned, therefore, was just as well satisfiedto see their backs. They were not up there to do any fighting if itcould possibly be avoided. The rules of the organization to which theybelonged positively forbade their seeking trouble along such lines;though allowing scouts the privilege of defending themselves ifattacked, and there seemed to be no honorable way of escaping without afight.
"What's the next word, governor?" whispered Jimmy, his voice tremblingwith the nervous tension.
The men had by now gone far enough along the beach to prevent any chanceof low conversation being overheard; though Ned kept on the alert allthe while, lest by some mischance there might others come along, whowould take them by surprise.
"We must follow them up," said Ned, without hesitation.
"Not out on the open beach, of course, when the woods are handy?"observed Jack.
"Move back into shelter, and we'll get busy," the leader told them.
Stooping so as to run less risk of being seen, in case one of the menhappened to turn his head from any reason, the little party of sevenhardy souls again entered among the trees.
They did not linger, because the men were making up the shore at a fairrate of speed, and they did not wish to lose track of them.
While no one had taken the trouble to ask Ned what his plan of campaignmight be, they saw indications all around to give them a pretty goodidea as to what he hoped to gain by thus following in the wake of thethree strangers.
The men looked like hard cases, of that all the scouts were determined.One had the appearance of a miner; a second wore moccasins and wasdressed after the manner of a woodsman, possibly a trapper, Indiantrader, or something in the line of a hunter; while the big man struckJack as a logger, or a timber cruiser, one of those spies who roam farand wide seeking new investments for some lumber company, or else achance to steal valuable Government timber that is unwatched.
In talking matters over the comrades had made up their minds that thesetypes represented the class of men they might expect to find gathered inthis region, paid by the money of the mine syndicate, and ready to carryout the will of the swindlers, if such the operators proved to be.
As before, the guides led the way. Both men had taken a great fancy toNed and his lively chums, and in case any trouble developed, as theresult of their venture into this unknown country, Francois and Tamasjomight be counted on as ready and willing to back the boys up to thelimit.
They pushed resolutely on, across fallen trees, through tangledthickets, and even climbing over rocks that lay in the way. The menahead knew what they were about in choosing the beach to make theiradvance.
Often partly out of breath, with the effort to keep a certain distancebehind those they were pursuing, the scouts pressed on. Jimmy seemed tohave a harder time than any of the others, but then that was nearlyalways the way; for if there was any hole to flounder into, or thornythicket to get stuck in, Jimmy could be depended on to do his share ofthe adventure. Not that he purposely chose to get mixed up in all theseskirmishes with unpleasant things; but he was one of those unlucky chapswhose blundering feet so often led him into a peck of troubles.
It would have taken much more than this to have discouraged Jimmy,however. He was made of stubborn material. Difficulties played fast andloose with him, but they never daunted the boy, who would only closethose firm jaws of his more tightly than ever, and say that "afterfifty-nine comes sixty," and if he had to go to twice that number he'dget there in the end.
One good thing about all this hustle, was the fact that, as Jimmy foundhimself, for the most part in the rear, he could not make any excuse tostart in talking, because he did not dare call out, after what Ned hadsaid.
They could hear him muttering savagely to himself every time a roottripped him up, or he found a swinging vine trying to lift him off hisfeet by means of his neck. That was a small matter, because, of course,Jimmy had to have some way of letting off superfluous steam, and itreally did no harm.
Ned looked around quite frequently. He did not wish Jimmy to get intoany serious trouble, because, in spite of his weakness for blundering,the McGraw boy was a faithful companion, who could always be depended onto stick to his friends, no matter what threatened. And he and Ned hadseen some pretty lively times all told, in times gone by. Thisassociation in peril does more to cement the bonds of real friendshipthan anything else known. And that was why Ned wanted Jimmy along onthis trip, also why he kept a wary eye out after the safety of theother.
Now and then Francois would step aside. On these occasions they knew hewas making sure that the two men were still going on ahead, and had noteither halted or turned asi
de into the rocky shore recesses.
They had kept up this sort of thing for nearly half an hour, and some ofthe boys were secretly telling themselves they had about reached thelimit of their endurance, when Francois made motions with his hands totell them that some sort of change had occurred since last he took anobservation.
"Say, they're gone!" muttered Jimmy, coming up just then; and from themystified look on his face, one would half believe he thought the menhad taken wings and flown away, or else the ground had opened up andswallowed them; for a fellow who could put the least shred of faith inthe reincarnation of Captain Kidd, dead for several centuries, wouldbelieve anything, Teddy privately told himself.
"Did they turn aside and enter the woods, Francois?" questioned Ned, atthe same time holding up a warning finger toward Jimmy, by this meansseeking to remind him they were in no position to enter into anydiscussion.
"Zat iss what zey haf do," replied the French Canadian voyageur,promptly.
"You don't think they're lying low to wait for us--that it is a trap?"continued the patrol leader.
"Zere iss no reason to zink so," answered Francois. "I do not belief zeyhaf see us; and if not, zen why lay trap? But it iss always better to besure zat ze road it be clear; so let ze chief heem go on and findtrail."
It was a good suggestion. None could do that duty quite so well as thered brother, even though those boys had learned many bright things inconnection with woodcraft, since joining the ranks of the scouts. Theyhardly felt like being able to enter into competition with a son of theforest, who from infancy had been taught in the wide fields of actualexperience what they had of late been learning, partly from crudetheory.
"Go on ahead, Tamasjo, and find the trail," said Ned to the waitingCree.
"Find same, give blue-jay cry," Tamasjo told them; and it was so rarelyhe ever spoke at all, that the other scouts had to smile and nod to eachother; for Jimmy had on one occasion even gone so far as to declare hisbelief that the Indian must be a genuine "dummy" and unable toarticulate at all, which, of course, was not true.
They waited for him there, being in no particular hurry. If the trail ofthe three men could be picked up that was all they wanted. They couldhardly have ventured to keep on the heels of those men through thewoods, where sounds might be carried to their ears that would put themon the alert, and bring about a sudden climax, perhaps a battle royal.
The Cree vanished from their sight. So silently did he go thatafterwards the scouts exchanged views concerning the way in which he haddone it; nor could they fully understand how he could move deftly along,without making the least sound.
But Tamasjo had been born and bred in the woods, and did not have toovercome the barriers that civilization hampers its votaries with. Hehad learned all he knew from watching the creeping wildcat leap upon itsprey; or else observing how the hungry wolf followed the wounded deerover hill and through valley.
He had not been gone more than five minutes, when they plainly heard theangry discordant note of the blue-jay.
"That means everything is lovely, and the goose hangs high," mutteredJimmy, not daring to speak much above a whisper, while he saw Nedkeeping a wary eye in his direction.
The leader at once gave the signal for an immediate advance, and theentire party started off. Even then, Ned and Francois, possibly Jackalso, turned from side to side, determined that they should not be takenby surprise through any shrewd trick played by the men they had beentracking.
Upon coming up with the dusky son of the Northern forests, they wereassured by him in a breath that all was well, and that the strangers hadswung directly into the woods, following what seemed to be a well-beatentrail. This told the story, and went far to convince Ned that they hadnothing to fear just then through discovery by these parties.
So the Indian, backed by the other guide, was put on the trail. The boyscould have followed this with utmost ease, and even Jimmy would havefound little real trouble in keeping to that broad track.
Every once in so often, Tamasjo would stop, to get down close to theground. His actions excited the deepest curiosity of Jimmy, who,pulling Ned's head close down to his own lips, asked softly:
"Now, what in the mischief is the feller doin' when he stoops low likethat? If you asked me, I'd say he was smellin' of the tracks of thethree men; but since when was a heathen Injun given a scent like ahound, tell me, Ned."
"If you watch closer, Jimmy," replied the other scout, "you'll see thateach time he bends down he is watching some blade of grass spring backto place; or else a small root that has been pressed down under the footof that giant righting itself again. He can read those signs like abook. They tell him accurately just how long ago the foot pressed thatroot or blade of grass down. And so he knows what time has elapsed sincethe enemy passed along here."
"Gee! it would take me a week to learn that sort of readin' signs,"Jimmy confessed; and Teddy, who was close enough to catch all thatpassed, snickered as he muttered, as though talking to himself:
"A week? Just one little stretch of seven days? Huh! you mean a year,rather."
Winding in and out in this way, the party bore deeper into the woods.The trail led among the rocks that were now piled up on every hand. Ned,on hastily examining some of these he passed, was forced to admit thatat least they bore all the "ear-marks" of containing copper. If thesyndicate had engineered a big swindle, at least, they must be givencredit for picking out a likely site for a mine.
But there was Tamasjo pointing ahead, and giving his young employer tounderstand that they had arrived at the end of the broad trail leadingfrom the shore of Hudson Bay into this wild stretch of rocky territory.
Boy Scouts on Hudson Bay; Or, The Disappearing Fleet Page 8