CHAPTER XIX
BAD NEIGHBORS
"It seems to be getting worse and worse, the further we go, don't it,Thad?" Allan asked, after he had had time to digest the startlinginformation which his chum had imparted, as they stood there within theouter edge of the glow cast by Giraffe's camp-fire under the overhangingledge of rock.
"Looks that way," replied the other, seriously enough, for he did notexactly like the situation.
"Seems like it wasn't bad enough for us to be wrecked, and marooned onthis queer island, but we have to fall across the trail of some unknownparties who may be up to all sorts of unlawful dodges, for all we know.But Thad, tell me more of what you saw and heard."
"When I started out from here," the scoutmaster began, "I knew that I'dprobably only have to look around at this end of the island, because nosensible man was going to take up his quarters where these storms alwaysstrike in. And then I figured it out that the chances were, theseparties, if there were more than the one fellow I'd seen sneakingaround, and spying on us, would want to be down close to the water, fora good many reasons. You can understand that, Allan?"
"Yes, and I think that notion would have come to me, just as it didyou," replied the other promptly, showing that he was following thenarrative closely.
"Well, that being the case," resumed the scoutmaster, "I stuck to thelower part of the land, climbing over and around such outcropping rocksas I came across. The moon wasn't helping me very much, though it's upthere behind the clouds; and on that account you see the darkness isnever so bad as when there's no moon at all.
"It wasn't so very long before I heard something knocking softly nearby, and listening carefully I made up my mind that it must be a boatthat was kept in a snug cove perhaps, and yet where it got more or lesswash of the sea beyond.
"That was just what it turned out to be, Allan, a fair sized motorboat,stoutly built, and yet something of a hummer when it would come tospeed. Her outlines told me this as soon as I could make her out down inthe berth she occupied between the rocks where they had protected thesides of the little basin with logs to keep her from chafing too much.
"Now, speed indicates that the people owning that boat expect to show aclean pair of heels, as they say, at times. They want to be incondition to skip out in a hurry, and be able to outrun any ordinarycraft that might try to overhaul them. Wouldn't you think that way,Allan?"
"You're speaking my mind to a dot, Thad."
"But I wasn't satisfied wholly, and made another move, to see whetherthey had any sort of a cabin around. Seemed to me that if they wereusing Sturgeon Island for some sort of shady business, they ought tohave a shelter. Well, I found it before ten minutes had passed, and byjust creeping along what I made out to be a regular trail leading fromthe boat up the shore a piece."
"Good for you, Thad; no woodsman could have done better!" exclaimed theother scout, who, having had practical experience extending through manytrips into the wilderness with hunting parties, was pretty well postedon the numerous little "wrinkles" connected with woods lore.
"Oh! that was the most natural thing in the world for any one to do, andI don't deserve any credit, Allan. But there were times when I admit Idid have to almost smell that trail, for it passed over little stretchesof rock, you see. At such times I had to look around, guess about whereit ought to be found where the earth began again, and in that way pickit up once more."
"And it really led you to a cabin, did it?" Allan asked, as the otherpaused.
"Yes, and there had been a fire burning in front of the shack, though Ifound only the ashes, as though it had been-hurriedly put out, perhapswhen they first saw us heading toward the island, just before the stormcame along."
"The ashes were still warm, then?" queried Allan, knowing that to be thelogical way a forest ranger always learns about how long past a fire hasburned out, or been extinguished.
"They were, and I could see that the brands had been torn apart, showingthat some one was in a hurry to keep its light from betraying the factof any person being camped on Sturgeon Island."
"Just what I'd think myself, Thad."
"After I saw that there was a cabin," continued the scout-master, "Iwondered whether I had better take chances, and crawl up close enough tohear what they were saying, if so be there were men there. Before I hadgone far in that scheme I realized that it was a little too risky,because I could hear a moving about, as though several men might bepassing in and out. I also caught an occasional low muttering tone; butthe noise of the waves dashing against the rocks, and the rattling ofthe branches of the trees that overhung the lone cabin, kept me fromcatching more than a single word now and then.
"After listening for quite a while I thought you would be gettinganxious about my staying so long; and as I couldn't get any realsatisfaction out of the game by hanging around any longer, why, I madeup my mind to clear out. I'd learned several things, anyway, and byputting our heads together thought we might get at the meat in thecocoanut."
Of course that was a neat way of admitting that he wanted to talkmatters over with his best chum, on the supposition that "two heads arebetter than one." Allan took it that way, for had he not on numberlessoccasions done just about the same thing?
"Of course you couldn't tell how many of these men there were, Thad?" heasked.
"I tried to make a stab at it by noticing the different sound of voices;and I'm dead sure there must have been three anyhow, p'raps more," thescout-master told him.
"And I think you've said once or twice that they seemed to be a roughlot?" the other went on to remark.
"That's my impression, Allan, from a number of things which I won'tbother mentioning now. And there's something more. I told you thatwhen I had a glimpse of the fellow who spied on our camp I thought hemight be a foreigner, or a half-breed, didn't I?"
"Yes, I remember you did, Thad."
"Well," explained the other, "although I heard so poorly while I washanging out near that hidden shack there were times when I thought oneof the men was talking in some tongue besides plain United States. Factis, he rattled off something in French."
"Oh! then it's plain who they are--half-breed Canadians from the NorthShore. As this island properly belongs to Canada they would have aright to land here, and our coming needn't bother them any--if they arehonest men."
"Thad, they wouldn't hide out like they do if they were the right sort.Make up your mind they're doing something that's against the law.Honest men don't carry on this way, and spy on a camp of Boy Scoutswrecked in a storm. Why, no matter how rough they might be, they'd dropin on us, and offer to share whatever they had. It's only fear ofarrest that makes cowards of men this way."
"I forgot to tell you that among the few words I did manage to pick upby straining my ears to the limit, were just three that gave me an ideathey took us for a detachment of militia, either Canadian or Yankee, outon the lake on some serious business that might interfere with theirtrade. Those three words were 'soldiers,' 'khaki,' and 'arrest.'"
Allan gave a soft whistle to indicate how his state of feelingcorresponded with that of his chum.
"There isn't any doubt about it in my mind, Thad," he asserted,vehemently; "but that they're here for no good. That fast launch meansthey are in the habit of making swift trips back and forth, perhapstaking the night for it every time, so as to run less chance of beingseen. And here hard luck has marooned us on Sturgeon Island with abunch of desperate smugglers, who look on us as soldiers sent out by theGovernment to gather them in. If ever we were up against it hard, wesure are right now, Pard Thad."
"You seem to have set your mind on that one explanation of theirpresence here; and I'll admit that this island would be a great half-wayplace to hide the smuggled goods on, till the right night came to runthem across to the American shore; but perhaps you're barking up thewrong tree there, Allan!"
"Oh! I'll admit that when I call them smugglers I'm only guessing,because, so far as I know we haven't any sort of
evidence looking thatway. It only seems the most natural explanation of why they're so muchafraid of us, believing as they seem to that we're connected with theGovernment, one side or the other, just on account of these Boy Scoutuniforms, which I reckon they don't happen to be familiar with. ButThad, you're holding something back; I can tell that by the way you act.You learned more than you've told me so far; own up to that."
The young scout-master chuckled. He liked to spring little surprisesonce in a while. It was just like tapping a peg until he had it set inthe ground to suit his fancy; and then with one master-stroke driving ithome. He had whetted Allan's curiosity now, and the time had come tosatisfy it.
"Yes," Thad went on to say, "there was one little discovery I made thatgave me certain information, and it was strong enough to convince methat our earlier suspicions about smugglers and all that sort of thingwere away off the track."
"Yes, go on, please, Thad."
"It struck me while I was lying there not so very far away from thatshanty hidden among the rocks and brushwood. Most of the time the windwas blowing on my left side, but every little while there would come apucker or a flaw, causing it to change for just for a second or two.And it was when this happened the first time I got scent of what was inthe wind, in a double sense. In other words, Allan, I discovered adistinct odor of fish in the air!"
"Oh! now I tumble to what you mean!" exclaimed the other.
"And every time that wind brought me a whiff of the fishy smell thestronger became my conviction that these men must be poachers, who knewthey were breaking certain game laws by taking white fish or troutillegally, and reaping a harvest that honest fishermen were unable toreach. Stop and think if things don't point that way?"
And Allan did not have to hesitate in the least, for what his companionhad just told him seemed to settle the matter beyond all dispute.
"Yes, Thad," he said, "now you've let the cat out of the bag there can'tbe any question about it. These half-breed Canadians are illegalfishermen, poachers they'd be called up in Maine; and they believe we'vecome to arrest the lot. It's a bad lookout for the Silver Fox Patrol;but we've seen worse, and always came out on top."
Boy Scouts on Sturgeon Island; or, Marooned Among the Game-fish Poachers Page 19