Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island; or, Marooned Among the Game-fish Poachers
Page 1
Produced by Sean Pobuda
THE BOY SCOUTS ON STURGEON ISLAND
Or Marooned Among the Game-Fish Poachers
By Herbert Carter
CHAPTER I
OUT FOR A ROYAL GOOD TIME
"Will you do me a favor, Bumpus?"
"Sure I will, Giraffe; what is it you want now?"
"Then tell me who that is talking to our scoutmaster, Dr. PhilanderHobbs; because, you know, I've just come in after a scout ahead, andfirst thing saw was a stranger among the patrol boys."
"Oh! You mean that thin chap who came along in his buggy a bit ago,chasing after us all the way from that town where we had a bite oflunch? Why, I understand he's the son of the telegraph operator there.You know we made arrangements with him to try and get a message to us,if one came along."
"Whew! then I hope he ain't fetched a message that'll spoil all our fun,just when we've got to the last leg of the journey, with the boat only afew miles further on! That'd be the limit Bumpus. You don't knowanything about it, I reckon?"
"Well, our scout-master looks kinder down in the mouth, and I'm afraidit must be some sort of a recall to duty for him," remarked a third lad,also wearing the khaki garments of a Boy Scout, as he joined the pairwho were talking.
"I'm afraid you're right, Davy," said the tall, angular fellow whoseemed to own the queer name of Giraffe, though his long neck plainlyproved why it had been given to him by his mates. "But don't it beatthe Dutch how many times Doe Hobbs has had to give up a jolly trip, andhurry back home, just when the fun was going to begin, because the olddoctor he works with needed him the worst kind?"
"But say," spoke up the fat boy who answered to the designation ofBumpus, "mebbe the Cranford Troop, and the Silver Fox Patrol inparticular, ain't lucky to have such a wide-awake, efficient assistantscout-master as our Thad Brewster, who knows more in a day aboutout-of-door things than Dr. Hobbs would in a year."
"Yes, that's right," replied Giraffe; "but we're going to know what's inthe wind now, because here's the scout-master heading this way, withseveral of the other boys tagging at his heels, and sure as you livethey're grinning too. Looks to me like Stephen and Allan thought it agood joke, though they look solemn enough when Doc turns their way.He's just got to leave us, you mark my words, fellows."
It turned out that very way. An urgent message had come thatnecessitated the immediate return of the scout-master. The old doctorwith whom he practiced had been unlucky enough to fall, and break a leg;so it was absolutely essential that his assistant come back to lookafter the sick people of Cranford, hundreds of miles away.
While the scout-master is getting his personal belongings together, andthe six boys gathered around are trying to look terribly disappointed,it might be well to introduce the little party to such of our readerswho have not had the pleasure of making their acquaintance in previousvolumes of this series.
The Cranford Troop of Boy Scouts now consisted of two full patrols, anda third was in process of forming. The original patrol was known as theSilver Fox, and the six scouts who were with Doctor Hobbs, away up hereon the border of Lake Superior, bent on a cruise on the great freshwater sea, all belonged to that division of the troop, so that they areold friends to those who have perused any of the earlier books.
Thad Brewster, whom Bumpus had spoken of so highly, was a bright,energetic lad, who had always delighted in investigating thingsconnected with outdoor life. He had belonged to a troop beforeorganizing the one at Cranford, and was well qualified for being madethe assistant scoutmaster, having received his credentials from the NewYork Headquarters long ago.
Allan Hollister, who would assume the responsibility should Thad beabsent, was a boy who had spent quite a time in the Adirondacks beforejoining the scouts, and his knowledge was along practical lines.
Then there was another fellow, rather a melancholy chap, who had a queerway of showing the whites of his eyes, and looking scared, at the leastopportunity, only to make his chums laugh; for he would immediatelyafterwards grin--in school as a little fellow he had insisted that hisname of Stephen should be pronounced as though it consisted of twosyllables; and from that day to this he had come to be known as Step HenBingham.
The other three boys were the ones who engaged in the little talk withwhich this story opens. Bumpus really had another name, though fewpeople ever thought to call him by it; yet in the register at school hewas marked down as Cornelius Jasper Hawtree; while the fellow who hadthat strange "rubber-neck" that he was so fond of stretching to itslimit, was Conrad Stedman.
Davy Jones, too, wag a remarkable character, as may be made evidentbefore the last word is said in this story. He seemed to be as nimbleas they make boys; and was forever doing what he called "stunts," daringany of his comrades to hang by their toes from the limb of a tree twentyfeet from the ground; walking a tight-rope which he stretched acrossdeep gully, and all sorts of other dangerous enterprises of that nature.Often he was called "Monkey," and no nick-name ever given by boyplaymates fitted better than his.
Once Davy had been a victim to fits, and on this account gained greatconsideration from his teachers at school, as well as from his comrades.But latterly there had arisen a suspicion that these "fits" that doubledhim up so suddenly always seemed to come just when there was some hardwork to be done; and once the suspicion that Davy was shamming broke inupon the rest, they shamed him into declaring himself radically cured.It was either that, or take a ducking every time he felt one of thosespells coming on; so Davy always declared the camp air had effected amiracle in his case, and that he owed a great deal to his having joinedthe scouts.
"Too bad, boys," said Dr. Hobbs, who was a mighty fine young man, andwell liked by all the scouts in Cranford Troop, although they saw solittle of him because his pressing duties called him away so often; "butI've got to go home on the first train. Doctor Green has a broken leg,and there's nobody to make the rounds among our sick people in Cranford.I never was more disappointed in my life, because we've fixed things fora glorious cruise up here on Old Superior."
The boys assured him that they deeply sympathized with him, because theyknew it would break their hearts to be deprived of their outing, nowthat they had come so far.
"Fortunately," continued Dr. Hobbs, with a twinkle in his kindly eyes,"that isn't at all necessary; because all arrangements have been made,the boat is waiting only a few miles away, and you have an efficientassistant scout-master in this fine chap here, Thad Brewster, who willtake charge while I'm away, as he has done on numerous other sadoccasions."
"Hurrah!" burst from Bumpus; "that's the kind of stuff we like to hear.Not that we won't miss you, Doctor, because you know boys from theground up, and we all feel like you're an older brother to us; but we'vebeen out with Thad so much, we're kinder used to his ways."
"Well," continued the scout-master, with a long sigh, "I've got to hurryoff if I expect to catch that afternoon train, and there's no otheruntil morning; so good-bye, boys. Take good care of yourselves, andwrite to me as often as you can. I'll try and picture the jollyhappenings of this Lake Superior cruise as I read your accounts of it."
He squeezed the hand of every one of the six lively lads; and there wasa huskiness in his voice as he bade them a last good-bye that toldbetter than words how sorry he was to leave the merry bunch, just whenthey were almost, as Bumpus put it, "in sight of the Promised Water."
So the vehicle passed from sight, and the last they saw of Doctor Hobbswas a hand waving his campaign hat to them just before a bend in thecountry road was reached.
"If it's just this way, fellows," he remarked, with one of his smilesthat had made him the most popular boy in all Cranford, barring none;"we've got about three miles to hit it up before we reach the lakeshore. Then we'll make camp and spend another night, which I hope willbe our last ashore for some little time. Because, unless there's ahitch to the program, we ought to come on the landing where our boat isgoing to be in waiting, by ten o'clock to-morrow."
"Hurrah!" cried Bumpus, who was already weary of "hiking" because hisbuild made him less active than some of the other scouts, notably Davyand Giraffe.
"Let's get a move on, then," suggested Step Hen. "I can see that poorold Giraffe here is nearly perishing for a little bite of supper."
A rippling laugh ran around at this, for every one knew the failing ofthe long-legged scout, whose stowage capacity when it came time to eathad never as yet within the memory of any comrade been fully tested; forthey always declared that his legs must be hollow, for otherwise it wasa mystery where all the food he devoured went to, since he never seemedto get any stouter after a meal than he was before.
The march was accordingly resumed, with Tad and Allan leading the van.The boys were going light, because they did not intend to do muchcamping on this trip, as it was expected that the boat would accommodateall of them with sleeping quarters.
Each one had a blanket strapped to his back, and with this were a fewnecessities in the line cooking utensils and food. Most of theirluggage had been sent on by another route, as had also their supplies.Doctor Hobbs had wished them to go to the landing where their boat wasto meet them, by following this roundabout course, having had somereason of his own for visiting the country. His folks in Cranford ownedconsiderable land in this vicinity, and it was said that there wereout-croppings of valuable copper to be found upon it; which accounted forthe young man's desire to make inquiries while up in this region.
Joking and laughing, and even singing snatches of school songs, the boysof the Silver Fox Patrol tramped along the road that was to bring themto the shore of the lake by and by.
It was about half-past four when they obtained their first glimpse ofthe apparently boundless body of water, said to be the largest freshwater sea in the whole world. Shortly afterwards they reached the shoreand were looking almost in awe out upon the vast expanse of water, uponthe bosom of which they anticipated making their home for some weeksduring vacation time.
"Here's the finest camp site you ever struck in your born days,fellers!" called out Giraffe, as he waved his arm around at the treesthat grew close to the edge of the inland sea; and every one of theother five scouts agreed with him.
They had made many camps in the last two years, for they had wanderedfar from the home town, down in Tennessee, up in Maine, and away out tothe Rockies on one memorable occasion; but no better place to spend anight had ever greeted their eyes.
It was soon a bustling scene, with a fire being started, andarrangements made to build a sort of lean-to shelter that would evenshed rain in a pinch should a storm come upon them during the night theyexpected to spend here.
Davy, as usual, was climbing trees, and spying into every hole he couldfind. When Monkey Jones had a chance to exercise his peculiar giftslike this present opportunity afforded him it was utterly out of thequestion to hold him in. And so he swung daringly from one limb toanother, just for all the world like a squirrel, chattering at times ina way that Giraffe always declared left no doubt in his mind concerningDavy's having descended from the original tree-climbing tribe thatsported tails.
There was one very large tree close by, that is, large considering thatin this section there were few that could boast a girth of more than afoot; but this one was really what Bumpus called a "whopper;" and Davysported among the higher branches with all the delight of a child with anew toy; giving the others more than one thrill as he swooped this wayand that with reckless abandon.
But suddenly he sent out a shout that caused every fellow to takenotice; and Bumpus actually turned pale with apprehension, as he vainlylooked around for some sort of weapon with which to defend himself;because he always believed he must be a shining mark for any hungry wildbeast, on account of his plumpness.
"Oh!" shouted the boy in the tree, "a panther, fellers, a really truepanther!"