Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill

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Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill Page 6

by G. Harvey Ralphson


  CHAPTER II

  RAVEN PATROL HITS THE TRAIL

  WHEN Monday night came, the Band met at Skinny's and went from there toMr. Norton's. He seemed glad to see us and started in for a good timewithout saying a word about the Scout business. I was just going to askhim about it when Mrs. Norton brought in the ice cream. After that wewere too busy to ask anything.

  When at last we had eaten all that we wanted and Bill had put away threedishes, Mr. Norton gathered us around him and said that he would tell usa story, if we wished to hear it.

  We told him to go ahead, and, after thinking a moment, he began.

  "You boys probably do not remember the Boer war in Africa. You were tooyoung at the time. During that war the Boers surrounded a town calledMafeking. All the able-bodied men were needed for fighting in order todefend the city and could not be spared for the work of carryingdespatches and things like that.

  "They had some lively lads in that town. As soon as the boys found outthe situation they made up their minds that they could do that kind ofwork just as well as the men could. They did, too. Back and forth theyhurried on bicycles, through a rain of bullets, from fort to fort,carrying messages and scouting. I tell you, those English boys wereheroes. I don't see how they escaped being killed. They must have dodgedthe bullets."

  When Skinny heard Mr. Norton speak of their being English boys he lookedtroubled, because Skinny thinks a lot of the United States of America.

  "Is this an English story, Mr. Norton?" he asked. "Because if it is Idon't know about it. How about George Washington, Bunker Hill, seeingthe whites of the enemy's eyes, and all those things? We named our boatout on Fox River in Illinois, the 'Paul Revere.'"

  "Guess what!" put in Benny, laughing at something he was thinking."Skinny couldn't dodge any bullets? 'Cause why? He's too fat. Theycouldn't miss him."

  "Aw, what's the matter with you?" said Skinny. "I could dodge as many asyou could, I guess. If a bullet hit you there wouldn't be anything leftof you; that's what. Why, I----"

  "A hero is a hero," said Mr. Norton, before Skinny had time to finish,"and a boy is a boy, I guess, no matter in what country he happens tolive. I have heard all about the Band, and I know that if you had beenin Mafeking that time you would have been among the first to volunteerfor scout service, bullets or no bullets, and Washington or noWashington."

  "Hurrah!" yelled Bill, forgetting where he was. "That's the stuff. Injunor no Injun, too. I knew an English boy once, and he was all right. Say,you ought to have seen him in a scrap."

  Mr. Norton laughed and went on with his story.

  "A few years later Gen. Robert Baden-Powell, who had been colonel incommand of the English forces at Mafeking, got to thinking about thoseboys in South Africa and how manly it made them to help in the scouting.He liked boys and he made up his mind that if scouting had been good forthose boys it would be good for any boys. Not the fighting part, I mean,but the outdoor life, learning to take care of themselves in thewilderness, make camps, build fires, find their way through the forest,follow a trail, and such things. So he called a meeting of a lot of boysand talked to them and showed them how to do it. They played at beingIndians mostly."

  "They don't have Injuns in England," said Bill, shaking his head,"unless it's in a Wild West show, and that doesn't count."

  "You are stopping the story, Bill," Skinny told him. "What's thedifference?"

  "Well, they don't," grumbled Bill.

  "Anyhow," Mr. Norton went on, "the boys enjoyed the play, and the ideaspread like wildfire, until now there are Boy Scouts all over the world.In America here Ernest Thompson Seton had much the same idea. He wasteaching the boys woodcraft, camp life, and such things by organizingthe Seton Indians that you may have heard about. Then he went toEngland, where he and General Baden-Powell put their heads together andworked out the Boy Scout idea. In this country the boys are known as'the Boy Scouts of America,' but nearly every civilized nation has itsBoy Scouts under some name or other, and the movement is very popularamong the boys.

  "I invited you up here to-night to get acquainted with the Band. Skinny,I mean Gabriel, tells me that you are all live wires. I want to know ifyou will join the Scouts. You can have a patrol of your own, select yourown patrol leader and your own patrol animal."

  "What's a patrol animal?" we asked.

  "Patrol animal? Why, each patrol is named after some animal, and theScouts all have to be able to imitate its call, so that they can leteach other know where they are hiding."

  When Mr. Norton told us that you hardly could have heard yourself thinkfor a minute. Mrs. Norton didn't know what had broken loose and camerunning in from the next room. Skinny was hissing like a snake; Billcroaked like a frog; Benny cawed like a crow; Hank barked like a dog,and the other boys did something else, and nobody could tell what theywere doing.

  "You seem to have the right idea," smiled Mr. Norton.

  There was a lot more to it, uniforms and rules and signs and all thatsort of thing, but that doesn't belong in this history. It didn't takeus long to decide that we would go in. Bill Wilson was the craziest onein the bunch.

  Mr. Norton thought that we ought to decide on a patrol leader before wewent home. We told him that there was nothing to decide.

  "Skinny is captain, all right," said Benny, "and the Band is the Band, Iguess, whether we are Scouts or Injuns."

  "Yes, I'm captain of the Band," Skinny told him, when Mr. Norton waitedto see what he had to say about it, "but I don't know about this patrolbusiness. It wouldn't do to vote on it here, anyway. The cave is wherewe meet. We ought to vote in the cave, seeing it is summer time. If itwas winter we could meet in Pedro's barn."

  We left it that way and were so busy during the closing days of schoolthat we didn't have time to think much more about it until Friday. Whenwe came in from afternoon recess, there was the Sign, as big as life,drawn with chalk on the blackboard.

  I saw teacher looking at it, sort of puzzled, as if she was wonderingwhat it all was about, and some of the girls were giggling at it. Theyseemed to think it was a joke of some kind, instead of somethingimportant. Anyhow, the Sign said for us to meet at the cave, Saturday,at ten o'clock.

  Saturday morning, long before ten, every boy was at our house, thatbeing nearest to the cave. Each one carried a lot of good things to eat,so we should not have to go home for dinner unless we wanted to.

  Besides his dinner Hank had with him a little camera, which his folkshad given to him on his birthday because he promised not to make anymore awful smells with chemicals in the cellar. Hank was always mixingthings to see what would happen and he pretty near blew his house up atone time. He is an inventor, too, and says that when he grows up he isgoing to make a flying machine. He nearly made one once. He made a kitethat would pull us uphill on our sleds.

  One time he made a spanking machine which worked with a crank, and whenteacher wanted us to lick Bill we spanked him with it. Only we laid ahorse hair across the seat of his pants to see what it would do and itbroke the machine. Of course, he didn't make the camera, but he had aplace down cellar where he developed and printed his pictures after thecamera had taken them.

  "Gee, fellers," said Skinny, "Hank is goin' to take our pictures.Everybody look pleasant."

  "Not on your life," Hank told him. "You'd break the machine; that'swhat."

  We went up through Blackinton's orchard and followed the road around tothe top of the hill.

  In a field, a little west of the top, the same field where we chased thehigh-school girls, stand what we call the "twin stones." They are bigones, six feet high and maybe more. One of these we use for afireplace. It is near Plunkett's woods, where it is always easy to finddry sticks to burn. A piece of the rock has been split off in such a waythat it makes a kind of hearth, with a place between for a fire.

  "Let's come back here for dinner," I said. "When we build a fire in thecave the smoke makes our eyes smart. What do you say?"

  So we went into the woods and hid our lunch and some p
otatoes, which wehad carried in our pockets to cook, but Hank wouldn't leave his camera.He said it cost too much to let it lie around in the woods. His folkspaid three dollars for it.

  Then we hurried on to the cave.

  "Open sesame!" said Skinny, pounding the outside of the cave with aclub, like the robber did in "Arabian Nights."

  "Is she open?" asked Bill, who was in a hurry to get in.

  Skinny didn't answer. He was peering up and down the ravine to see ifanybody was looking. When he found that no one was in sight he motionedfor us to go in.

  "Old Long Knife will guard the pass," said he.

  And he did, for when I put my head out of the cave a little later tofind out why he did not come, he was fighting like sixty. He swung hisclub and jumped around for a minute; then gave a fearful whack and drewhimself up with his arms folded, like an Injun or a bandit.

  "Lie there, villain!" he hissed. "Sick semper turn us, and don't youforget it."

  After that he came in with his face all red, he had been working sohard. We already had the candle lighted and were ready to begin.

  "Fellers," said Skinny, when we all had sat down on the floor in frontof him and I had called the roll. "I don't know whether this is the Bandor the patrol, or whether we are bandits, or Injuns, or Scouts, and Idon't know that it makes much difference. I am captain of the Band, butwhat we want to find out is, who is leader of the patrol. We could fightfor it, perhaps, only I hate to muss my clothes."

  Some looked at Bill, for we knew that he kind of wanted to be leader. Hewould make a good one, too, only it seemed to belong to Skinny.

  Nobody said a thing for 'most a minute. Then Benny stood up, bumped hishead against the roof of the cave, and sat down again.

  "Mighty chief," said he, when we were through laughing at him, "may Ispeak and live?"

  He never had said that before and it surprised us.

  "You may," said Skinny, looking fierce and swinging his club.

  "Fellers," began Benny, "Skinny was a good enough leader when we went'sploring out in Illinois last summer and I 'most got drowned in FoxRiver, and he was a good enough leader when we found a tramp in this'ere cave and smoked him out. He lassoed the robber, that time, didn'the, when the guy was stealin' Hank's pearl, and--and--lots of things? Iguess that anybody who could do that is good enough to be patrolleader."

  That was a long speech for Benny to make, and we all patted him on theback except Bill, who sat thinking and getting ready to say something.All of a sudden he spoke up.

  "Fellers," said he, "three cheers for Skinny Miller, who is always therewith the goods."

  "You're out of order," Skinny told him, but nobody could hear.

  I shouldn't wonder if they heard us voting clear down in the village.

  We also had to have an assistant patrol leader, called a corporal, andwe elected Bill Wilson. Bill is great at such things. As corporal hewould be in command whenever Skinny was away. That didn't count formuch, though, for Skinny is almost always around when anything is goingon.

  The next thing to do was to decide upon our patrol animal, like the booksaid.

  At first we couldn't agree very well on that. Nearly every one wanted adifferent animal. Skinny wanted us to choose a snake because he likedthe hissing part and a picture of a snake would be easy to draw on oursigns.

  Hank and Bill thought a dog would be best.

  "A dog," said Bill, "is man's best friend, and that is what Scouts arefor."

  Hank could bark like a dog. That was why he wanted it.

  Benny thought a crow would be the thing, but it seemed to me that theAmerican eagle would be better. We heard one once on Greylock and it wasgreat.

  Skinny liked the eagle pretty well, especially the American part, butwhen he found that Benny Wade wanted a crow he said he was for a crow,too. That was because Benny had made the speech.

  "A snake is all right for some things," he said, "and you don't want tostep on them or on us. Don't you remember that old flag which had arattlesnake on it and the words, 'Don't tread on me'? The hissing is allright, too, when we are close together and can hear, but how about itwhen we are not? What if I was hiding in Plunkett's woods and you wereon the way to the cave and I should be attacked by Injuns or something.I might hiss until I was black in the face and who'd hear me? You couldhear me caw almost to Peck's Falls."

  "Yes, that's so about snakes," I told them. "I don't think much ofsnakes myself. But I don't know about crows. The eagle is such a noblebird."

  "Noble nothin'!" said he. "What did an eagle ever do that was noble anymore than a crow? Besides a crow can talk if you split its tongue. Iread it in a book. You can't draw an eagle. You'd have to write under itwhat it was."

  "So you would under a crow," I told him.

  "Anyhow," he went on, "I'll bet nobody here can make a noise like aneagle. Let's hear you do it, Pedro. Cawing is easy."

  That ended the eagle business. Skinny was right. Not one of us couldmake a noise like an eagle.

  "What makes you want it a crow, Benny?" asked Hank.

  "I don't know how to tell it," said Benny, sort of bashful like. "Iwasn't thinking about drawing it. A crow would be hard to draw, Iguess, but we could make something that looked like a bird and we boyswould know what bird was meant. I wasn't thinking either whether it wasnoble or not. Maybe a crow ain't exactly noble, but somehow when I see abig fellow soaring around in the Bellows Pipe, between the mountains, itmakes me feel kind of noble myself and as if I ought to soar, too. Andwhen I hear the cawing of a crow, no matter where I am, even in NorthAdams or Pittsfield, I can see Bob's Hill and old Greylock and theBellows Pipe, and big crows flying around in the air as if they ownedthem all. We are Bob's Hill boys and Greylock boys. That's why I want ita crow. They sort of belong together."

  We never had thought of that before, but when we came to talk it over itseemed that way to us, too. So we chose the crow for our patrol animal,only we didn't call ourselves "the crows" but "the ravens," because itsounded so much nobler. While we can't draw a very good one when we makeour signs, it looks some like a bird and we all know what kind it is, asBenny said.

  By that time we were getting hungry and so we made a bee-line forPlunkett's woods, sounding as if a whole flock of crows were startingsouth.

  "Everybody scatter for wood," shouted Skinny, when we had come to thebig stone where we build our fires. "I'll get the grub."

  We ran to different parts of the woods where we knew there were deadbranches lying on the ground, trying to see which would get a fire goingfirst. Then, just as Bill and I met at the stone, with arms full ofsticks, and the others close behind, we heard a terrible cawing over inthe woods, only it didn't sound so much like a crow as it did likeSkinny.

  We looked at one another, wondering what it all meant, for the Scoutbusiness was new to us. Besides it sounded as if something had happened.

  "'Tention, Scouts," said Bill, in a hurry to get in his work as corporalwhile Skinny was away. "Everybody caw!"

  We made a great racket. In a moment there came an answering caw from thewoods; then Skinny stepped out into the clearing in plain sight andmotioned for us to come.

  We knew something was the matter and started for the woods on a jump,the corporal in the lead.

  "It's gone!" shouted Skinny, when we had come near. "Some guy has stolenour dinner."

  "Great snakes!" groaned Bill. "And I'm starving to death."

  We all gathered around the place where we had hidden the things undersome bushes. Skinny was right; they were gone. I tell you he was mad.

  "I don't know whether we are Scouts or bandits or Injuns," said he, "andI don't care, but I'd like to get hold of the critter that stole ourdinner. We wouldn't do a thing to him. Oh, no. Maybe not."

  "Everybody scatter," he shouted. "Look for signs and tracks. We'llfollow him to the ends of the earth."

 

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