Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour,

by George A. Warren

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A CLOSE CALL

  "Hold 'em! hold 'em!" whooped William, as he found himself mixed up inthe canvas of the tent which had fallen in a heap; for evidently he wasof the opinion that all this racket must be caused by those vindictiveworkers of evil, Ted Slavin and his crowd.

  "Look to your tent pins, fellows!" shouted Paul, lustily, as he hurriedaround to lend what assistance lay in his power.

  He had little fear about his own tent, understanding just how it hadbeen put up. But all of the scouts were not so well versed in the littletricks known to those who spend much time under canvas; and there was achance that others would share the sad fate that had already befallenpoor William.

  Then there was a great scurrying to and fro. As the storm broke the boysshuddered and held on to the ropes for dear life, regardless of the factthat they were clad only in pajamas, which were soon rain soaked.

  "Never mind that little thing, fellows," sang out the care-freeBobolink; "because you know we can get plenty of dry clothes after she'sover; but if you let the tents blow away, where, oh! where do we comein? Hold hard, everybody; here comes another bluff at us. Wow! get agrip on my legs, will you? I'm agoin' to fly, that's what!"

  But some of his mates held on doggedly, and Bobolink consented to remainon earth a while longer. As long as it lasted it was one of the greatestshort storms most of the scouts could remember ever experiencing. Butthen, up to now, they had been pretty much in the habit of viewing suchconvulsions of nature from the shelter of a snug harbor in the shape ofa home window; and things looked vastly different when the same Summergale was met, with tents threatening to carry away, and the treesgroaning in the furious wind.

  "She's over!" cried Jack, at last, when the storm seemed to come to ahalt almost as suddenly as it had broken.

  No one was sorry. Repairs were quickly undertaken, after the boys haddonned some dry clothes; for the air was chilly after the rain, andbeing soaked to the skin they found themselves shivering.

  William had managed to crawl out from under his tent, with the help ofothers. He had several bumps to prove what a close call it had been. Theothers could not lose a chance to poke fun at him; for it was not oftenthe opportunity came when the fun-maker of the troop could be caughtnapping.

  "Next time, get a move on you, old slow poke!" one advised, when Williamventured to complain that it was mean in their deserting him to hisfate.

  "Yes, Mr. Tortoise, you'll have to learn how to crawl better than that,if you expect to stay with this fast crowd," declared Tom Betts.

  "But every time I started to get out," William declared, ruefully,"somebody would stick his foot in my face, and climb all over me. Thenthe blessed thing dropped flat, and left me swimming all alone. Ofcourse I thought it was some more of Ted's fine sport, and I hoped youchaps were flagging 'em. After that the water came in on me. Ugh!"

  "What did you think then, old molasses in Winter?" asked Bobolink;shaking the last of the water out of his precious bugle, and carefullywiping its brass mouthpiece with his handkerchief.

  "Why," said William, grinning, "at first I thought the river hadoverflowed its banks, and was going to carry me all the way down toStanhope. Then I heard the wind and the thunder, when it struck methere was something of a storm. So I just laid still; for I knew youfellows wouldn't want me bothering around while you worked like fun tohold the rest of the tents from going by the board."

  "Listen to him, would you, Paul?" exclaimed one of the others. "He knewall along we were hard pushed to hold out, and yet he just snuggledthere, and wouldn't give a helping hand. What kind of a scout are you,anyway, William?"

  "Well," returned the accused one, in his drawling way, "I didn't want tocut a hole in the canvas, you see; and I couldn't get out any other way.Come to think of it, I don't generally carry my knife around in mypajamas, like some fellows do bugles, and such trash."

  "Rats!" flashed back Bobolink, disdainfully, "you're just jealous of mynoble calling, that's all."

  "He's always calling, ain't he, fellows?" asked William. "I expect tosee him sit up in his sleep some night, and scare us half out of ourlives by tooting away to beat the band. I'm going to get up a petitionthat the old horn be muzzled every night before we go to our little bedson the hemlock browse."

  A fire was, after some little trouble, started. Paul had been wiseenough to keep some fine kindling in his tent for just such anemergency. Even had it been otherwise he would have known just how toget at the heart of a dead tree, which would yield the necessary drywood to make a beginning. Such hunter's tricks were well known to Paul,likewise to Wallace; and before this tour came to an end most of theothers would have picked up scores of such bits of knowledge, likely tobe of use to them whenever they chanced to be in the great woods.

  The sky was clear again long before the last boy had concluded that itwas safe to crawl into his tent once more, and try to sleep.

  And whoever happened to be on guard, kept the fire going throughout theremainder of that eventful night.

  No further adventure broke upon their heads, and in good time dawnappeared in the eastern sky. There was much merriment as the boys wentfor a morning dip in the waters of the Bushkill. Many jokes were madeabout the new order of things in camp that necessitated a shower-bath atmidnight.

  "Be careful, fellows," Paul admonished, as he saw that most of thescouts were bent on trying the water of the rapid little stream."There's a bad current here, and if it gets hold of you grab a rock andyell. To be dashed down there wouldn't be the nicest thing going."

  Jack agreed to keep an eye on the clump, for Paul had duties in campjust then. He expected to take a dip himself a little later on.

  Hardly had ten minutes passed before he heard a loud series of shouts.

  "Hold hard, Tom! Make a chain there, you fellows, and get him before helets go! Hurry up, can't you?"

  It was Jack Stormways shouting these words. Paul knew instantly thatsome one must have been caught by the current, and was in danger ofbeing dragged along down the stream to where it dashed wildly againstthe rocks.

  The young patrol leader lost not an instant. Snatching up a rope thathappened to lie handy, he rushed for the bank of the river.

  Instinct caused him to head for a point below where Jack was standing,trying to reach some object with a long pole he handled awkwardly. Evenin that thrilling moment Paul could think, and was able to understandthat the ever flowing current must sweep any helpless swimmer pastJack's position in quick order.

  As he ran Paul was trying to fashion a loop in the end of the rope. Hadhe not been perfectly calm he could never have succeeded in doing thisdifficult feat; but when he reached the bank he had managed toaccomplish it.

  What he saw was a tumble of water, which was almost covered with foam.Somewhere in this poor Tom Betts must be floating, churned back andforth by the suction of the current that was striving to escape from thewhirl.

  Jack had evidently lost sight of the drowning lad completely, for he waseven then running toward Paul, his face as white as chalk.

  There! Paul had just a fleeting glimpse of the boy in the foamy water.He had thrust one arm up rather feebly, as though almost gone. Perhapshis head had come in contact with a rock while he was swimming, and thishad dazed him; for ordinarily Tom Betts was a clever swimmer.

  Paul waited for no more. He was down the bank like a flash, and wadinginto the water, regardless of clothes. What did it matter about hisgetting wet, when a precious human life was in peril.

  Again he caught a glimpse of the boy's arm amid all that spud and foam.But the first attempt to throw the loop of his rope over it resulted infailure.

  Paul instantly changed his tactics. Reversing the coil, he cast the loopover a friendly stump that chanced to be at hand; then, gripping therope in his hand, he boldly cast himself into the midst of that whirl offroth and spinning water.

  Fortune was kind, for almost immediately he came in contact with theunconscious lad, and was able to throw an
arm about him. The fiercestream tried in vain to drag him down into other basins below; but Paulhad his hand twisted in the coils of that rope, and would not let go.

  "Hold on, Paul; we'll pull you in!" shouted Jack on the bank, as heclutched the lifeline and began to exert his full strength.

  "Hurrah! Paul's got him! It's all right!" whooped others, as they lent ahand.

  Of course Paul was quickly dragged into shallow water, where willinghands relieved him of his burden. Tom looked dreadful, being deathlywhite, and very limp. But Paul could not believe the boy had been underthe water long enough to be drowned.

  Immediately he had the others bring the senseless boy up to the camp,where he was placed on his chest. Kneeling down, with one leg on eitherside, Paul placed his palms on Tom's back just where the small ribscould be felt. Then by leaning forward, and pressing downward, he forcedthe air and water from the lungs of the patient; relaxing the movementallowed air to creep in a little, when the operation was repeated timeand time again.

  Sometimes it may take an hour to make this artificial respirationsuccessful; so that it is not wise to desist until every hope is gone.Many a person has been saved after it seemed next to a miracle thatlife might be restored.

  With Tom it was not a difficult problem. He had been stunned by the blowreceived in his contact with the rock, and hence little water hadentered his lungs.

  In five minutes he was showing signs of coming to; his arms, extendedabove his head while this process of pumping air into him was beingconducted, twitched and moved; then he groaned, and finally made a moveas if he wanted to get up.

  Ten minutes after being taken from the water he was sitting up, andasking what all the fuss was about.

  Tom afterwards confessed to a dim recollection of feeling somethinghitting him a dull blow in the head; after that he knew nothing moreuntil he opened his eyes to see his mates clustered around, and hearthem give lusty cheers.

  But he heard how Paul had acted so wisely, and while Tom was a fellownot much given to words, at the first opportunity he thanked his friendwith tears in his eyes; for he was thinking of a fond mother at home,and what a blow she must have received had he been drowned.

  The boys cared little about indulging themselves in any more bathing inthat treacherous portion of the fast-running Bushkill. Down aroundStanhope they understood its various moods; but up in this RattlesnakeMountain district it was quite a different thing.

  Breakfast appealed more to them, and they went at it with a will. Tomwas exempt from any menial labor on that morning. Warmly dressed, andplaced close to the roaring fire, he watched his chums work, and thoughtwhat a splendid thing it was he had not been alone at the time theaccident happened.

  And Paul was more than glad it turned out so well. Had a tragedy come topass, their joyous outing must have met with a sudden halt, and thereturn journey to Stanhope would have been a sad one indeed.

  "What's the programme for to-day?" asked Jack, as they all sat around,eating the fine breakfast the patrol cooks had served.

  "Another hike, and this time up the mountain," returned Paul. "It willbe our last for a while, at least, for when we get settled in anothercamp I hope to stay there until our scoutmaster arrives."

  "And when do you look for Mr. Gordon, Paul?" queried Wallace, who seemedto have lost his appetite after seeing how near a companion had come toa terrible death.

  "Any hour after this. He said he would use my wheel in coming up here,so as to make better time. I'll be glad when he comes," and Paul gave asigh as he glanced around at the score of boyish faces turned towardhim; to let his gaze rest finally on that of genial Tom Betts, whom hehad known pretty much all his life.

  Nor indeed could Paul be blamed for wishing to pass the responsibilityon to broader shoulders, more capable of bearing it. He was only a boy,and it seemed to him that since he had been placed in charge of thisexpedition, with all its attendant cares and trials, his spirit had beenalmost crushed.

  But the camp was broken, and with much laughter the scouts began toclimb the side of mysterious old Rattlesnake Mountain, of course Paulmanaged to forget most of his troubles, and his merriment rang out asloud as that of any other.

  So, boosting and pulling at old Dobbin, they made the ascent by slowdegrees, and by noon had reached a point that afforded them a grand viewof the country away off toward the south, the east and the west; but itwas toward the first named region that many a wishful look was given,for did not Stanhope lie yonder--and home?

  CHAPTER XIX

  INDIAN PICTURE WRITING