Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill

by G. Harvey Ralphson

  CHAPTER X

  A MAIDEN IN DISTRESS

  "FELLERS," Skinny had told us, when we were getting ready to start onthe hike, "you always ought to carry a rope. Something happens everytime when you don't have a rope along."

  "It happens when you do," Benny said. "Anyhow, a rope is too muchbother. A blanket and a frying pan and things like that are all I wantto carry."

  "A rope is the thing, just the same. Didn't I lasso the robber lastsummer out on Illinois River, at Starved Rock? How could I lassoanything without a rope? And didn't we let you down into HorseshoeCanyon with a rope and pull Alice What's-her-name up again?"

  "Bet your life we did," Bill put in. "You need a rope when you arecamping out or are in a boat on the river, but what good is it inwalking seven miles?"

  "Maybe it is and maybe it isn't; but, just the same, you'll be sorry ifyou don't take one along."

  He was right, too, for Bill told us afterward that he would have given agood deal for a rope when he was sitting on top of Greylock. He didn'tneed it for anything, only, he said, it would have been sort of companyfor him.

  Skinny was bound to carry a rope. When he marched down Center Streetwith it coiled around his shoulders, over his blanket, and with histomahawk in his belt, people ran out of the stores to look at him.

  The road that he took is uphill a good part of the way. It goes upthrough the foothills of the east mountain and isn't easy walking. Weslide down that road sometimes in winter. When the coasting is good wecan slide nearly a mile, clear into the village; then hitch on to a boband ride back again for another.

  There were no bobs for Skinny. It was warm in the sun and he loafedalong, taking it easy and looking for somebody to rescue. Once hestopped to help a man in a field. Along about ten or eleven o'clock hebegan to get hungry and tired. No matter where he looked there didn'tanything happen, so he made up his mind to take a long rest the nexttime he came to some good shade, and maybe to cook his dinner.

  A half-mile farther on he came to a real shady spot by the roadside,under a tree which stood in a corner of a pasture on the other side of afence. A tiny stream crossed the road, and ran down through the pasture.

  This was the place he had been looking for and, after drinking, he threwhimself down on the ground and went to sleep.

  He didn't know how long he slept but he felt first rate when he woke up,only hungrier than ever. Over in the pasture stood a cow with her backto him, looking at something and growing real excited about it.

  "I wonder what ails the critter," said Skinny to himself. "She looks madabout something, snorting and shaking her head that way."

  Just then he heard a girl's voice singing. She sang real loud, like boyswhistle sometimes to keep up their courage, when they are half scared.Then in a few minutes she came in sight, walking across the pasture andkeeping one eye on the cow.

  Skinny hadn't seen her before because the cow had stood in the way.

  "Jerusalem!" said he. "Here's luck. She's got a fire-red sunbonnet andcows don't like red sunbonnets a little bit."

  On came the girl, singing louder than ever, trying to edge off away fromthe cow but not daring to run.

  Skinny could see that the cow was getting madder all the time. He knewthat something was going to happen at last, and he began to uncoil hisrope.

  "Run, you little fool," said he. "Run."

  He meant the girl and not the cow. He said it under his breath so shewouldn't hear, for he didn't want to lose the chance to do the rescueact and have something to tell us boys about afterward.

  The girl was scared. Any one with half an eye could have seen that. Thecow hadn't quite made up its mind what to do, and Skinny was beginningto be afraid that the girl would get across without giving him a chanceto get in his work. Then what did she do but take off her sunbonnet andswing it around by one string, just to let the cow know that she wasn'tafraid of any animal that walked on four legs.

  She hadn't seen Skinny yet, on account of his being back of the cow. Thecow didn't know he was there, either, until about four secondsafterward. It knew then, all right.

  Maybe the cow wasn't mad when she saw that red sunbonnet whirling aroundin the air. She tore up the sod with her horns, gave a big snort, andstarted, head down.

  Say, it was Skinny's busy day about that time. Before the cow could getfairly going he had crawled under the fence and run up behind, whirlinghis lasso around his head. Then he gave a yell like a wild Indian andthrew it.

  I think the yell scared the girl worse than the cow did. Anyhow, betweenthe cow and the Indian she was scared stiff; just stood thereparalyzed. And she didn't do any more singing.

  If that lasso had caught there would have been a paralyzed cow allright. Skinny threw it in great shape. It went straight for her horns,but when he yelled she lifted her head suddenly. The loop struck againstone of the horns, instead of going over it, and then fell off to theground.

  "Gee!" groaned Skinny. "Missed!"

  There wasn't time to say anything more, and he knew that he would haveto get mighty busy or there wouldn't be any rescuing done.

  When something happens that way and you have to do something first andthink about it afterward, the mind seems to work like chain lightning.There was only one thing to do and it didn't take Skinny long to dothat. He dropped the rope, grabbed hold of the cow's tail with bothhands, and dug his feet into the ground.

  "Run!" he yelled. "Run for the fence! I've got her."

  When Bill heard about it he said that it seemed to him as if the cow hadSkinny. Anyhow, she was surprised some and she was mad. She will thinktwice next time before she does any chasing, when anybody from RavenPatrol is around, I guess.

  Skinny had a good hold and she couldn't get away. First she stoppedrunning and tried to get at whatever it was back of her, with her horns,chasing herself around in a circle.

  Skinny hung on like a good fellow. He had to. If he had let go once itwould have been all up with him. She never touched him. Every time thecow stopped, there was a hundred pounds of boy hanging to the end of hertail.

  It was like playing crack the whip, he told us afterward, "and being thelittlest fellow on the tail end."

  Then for a few moments it was hard to tell which was the cow and whichwas Skinny, for she started on a run for the other side of the pasture,Skinny sliding and bumping behind, and both of them scared half todeath. Skinny was so excited he couldn't think to let go of the tail.

  Hank said that he would have given a quarter if he could have taken apicture of it with his camera.

  All this didn't take so long as it does to tell about it. The girl hadreached the fence, crawled under, and was yelling for help.

  Just then it seemed to Skinny as if the tail had come off in his hands,for he went tumbling along, heels over head, until he struck with a jarthat almost loosened his teeth.

  What really happened was that he stumbled on a stone and his hands werejerked loose. In another minute the cow was out of sight in a hollow.Skinny scrambled to his feet and went back after the rope, trying not tolimp because he could see the girl looking at him through the fence.

  He felt pretty chesty to think that he had rescued a maiden, only hedidn't know what to do with her, now that he had saved her.

  She spoke first, as he stood there sort of brushing his clothes off.

  "Are you hurt, boy?"

  "What, me?" said Skinny. "Me hurt? Say, didn't you see the critter runwhen I got after her?"

  "I should say I did, only I was scared. Wasn't you scared?"

  "I don't scare worth a cent," he told her. "I ain't afraid of any cowa-livin'. You don't suppose I'd 'a' chased her all over the pasture, ifI'd been scared, do you?"

  "N-no, but----"

  "Say, if my lasso hadn't slipped, there would have been something doing.It's lucky for you that I got hold of her tail. That's the way to do it.When you twist a cow's tail, it scares 'em."

  It's just as Hank says, you never can tell what a girl will do. Thatgirl tried to say som
ething; then choked up and went off into a fit oflaughing that made the tears roll down her cheeks and left her so weakthat she had to hang on to the fence.

  Skinny grinned a little to be polite, but he didn't like it very well.

  "Oh," said she, as soon as she could speak, "it was too--too funny foranything to see you sailing along behind the cow."

  "It wouldn't have been so funny if the cow had been running toward you,instead of away from you. You would have laughed out of the other sideof your mouth, I guess."

  She saw that he was mad about it.

  "You mustn't mind my laughing," said she, stuffing her handkerchief intoher mouth. "I can't help it. It's a disease."

  "A disease?"

  "Yes, it's high strikes. When folks have them they can't stop laughing.They laugh when they ought to cry, maybe."

  "Sounds like a ball game," said Skinny.

  "It's something like that," she told him. "Maybe that isn't it exactlybut it's something. I'm better now."

  "Oh, well, if it's something that ails you, I suppose it's all right.I'd laugh, too, only I am all out of breath from chasing the cow."

  When he said that the girl burst out laughing again, and Skinny laughedwith her. That made them feel acquainted.

  "I guess I've got 'em, too," said he. "They must be catching. Well, Imust be going now."

  "My name is Mary Richmond," she told him, "I live in Holyoke and I amvisiting over where you see that red barn."

  "Mine is Gabriel Miller. I don't like the name very well. Gabe isn't sobad. The boys call me Skinny. I live down in the village and I am on ahike. I guess I'd better be going now."

  "I don't see any."

  "Any what?"

  "What you said you were on, a hike."

  "You will see one in about a minute. I am out for a long walk. I belongto the Boy Scouts and I've got to walk seven miles, camp out to-night,and come back to-morrow."

  "My," said she, "you must be hungry--all that walking and--and--chasingthe cow, too."

  "I am," said Skinny, bracing up. "I believe I'll eat my lunch right herein the shade. Wish you'd stay and eat with me. I can cook some bacon."

  Wasn't that a nervy thing to say? Skinny is brave when he gets started.

  "It would be fine," she told him, "only Ma is expecting me at the house.She is visiting, too. Wouldn't it be nicer for you to come with me?They will be glad to see you because you saved me from the cow. I amawfully hungry and Grandma is the best cook. We're going to havelemonade. She told me so. Come on, do."

  "Lemonade would taste good," he said, "if I only dast."

  "Huh!" said she, tossing her head. "I thought that you were not afraidof anything."

  "I ain't of a cow. This is different. Say, that was a swell song youwere singing. I wish I knew it."

  "I'll teach it to you after dinner, if you will come. If you don'tyou're a 'fraid cat."

  "All right. I'll go if it kills me."

  Skinny says that he never ate a dinner that tasted any better than thatone did. Mrs. Richmond was scared when she heard about the cow and shecouldn't say enough about how he had saved her little girl from aterrible death.

  "That wasn't anything," he told her. "Scouts are always doing thosethings. I'm going to try to save somebody from drowning when I come backalong the river to-morrow."

  "I'll tell you a better stunt than that," said Mary's grandfather,winking one eye at the rest of the folks. "Why don't you go up to Savoyon the east mountain. That would make a walk of about seven miles fromthe village. You won't find anybody drowning up there, but several deerhave been seen around there lately."

  "Gee!" said Skinny, his eyes sticking out when he thought of the deer."If I only had a gun!"

  "It's against Massachusetts law to shoot deer. That's why they aregetting so common. You have your rope. Maybe you can lasso one. There isno law against that, I guess."

  "I'll do it," Skinny told him. "Bet your life the boys will be surprisedwhen they see me bringing home a deer. Maybe I'll get two or three. Mr.Norton didn't give me a message to anybody, so it won't make anydifference which way I go."

  "Don't get too many. We'd like to save a few. And be careful that somebear doesn't get you," went on Mr. Richmond, laughing to see how excitedSkinny was. "They are not very common, but once in a while one is seenon the mountain."

  "How do you get up there?"

  "Go back to Pumpkin Hook. It isn't far, and then follow the road whichturns east. It will take you right to Savoy. You will find a pretty goodroad all the way, and you won't have any more trouble than you wouldgoing to Cheshire--unless," he added in a fierce voice that made Skinnyjump, "unless A BEAR GETS YOU!"

  "Now, father, don't scare the boy to death," said Mary's mother. "Youknow well enough there are no bears and the road to Savoy is awell-traveled one."

  "Of course it is, or I shouldn't have suggested his going there. Butthere have been bears seen on the Savoy Mountain. I saw one myself, lastyear."

  "Huh! I ain't afraid of no bear," put in Skinny, drawing himself up andlooking fierce. "I tracked one once on Bob's Hill. It went up to Peck'sFalls and hid in our cave. We smoked it out. I didn't have a gun orknife or anything, but I hit it with a snowball."

  You could have hung a hat on Mary's eyes when Skinny told them that.

  "Was it a really and truly bear?" she asked. "And did it stand on itshind legs like in the circus pictures over at the Hook?"

  "It stood on its hind legs, all right," he told her, "but it wasn'treally a bear. We thought it was. It made tracks in the snow just likebear's tracks, but when we had smoked it out we found that it wasn'tanything but a man."

  "It was Jake Yost, a foolish feller," he explained, turning to Mr.Richmond. "He had his boots on the wrong feet and wouldn't change themback for fear of changing his luck. That was what made his tracks looklike bear's tracks."

  It tickled them to hear about that, but it didn't tickle us boys muchwhen it happened. It was too scary.

  "If you will stop here on your way back to-morrow," said Mary's grandma,"we'll give you a nice dinner. I think you will be wanting one aboutthat time. Mary may walk with you as far as the Hook, if you like, andshow you the road."

  "I think maybe I'd better go along, too, with my gun," said Mr.Richmond, "on account of the bears."

  "Don't you mind his nonsense," she said. "You run along."

  So off they went together, Skinny with his rope and tomahawk and Marywith her red sunbonnet, but they kept away from the pasture.

  From Pumpkin Hook Skinny went on alone, up the mountain road, whirlinghis tomahawk around his head and every little while pretending to lassothe enemy, because he knew that Mary was watching him from below.

  Then pretty soon he came to a bend in the road. He turned and waved toher, and in a minute was out of sight.