CHAPTER XVII
ON THE WAY AT LAST
FOLKS in our town think that white streaks down the face of Greylock donot improve his looks any, but to us boys they seem like scars won inbattle. We feel like cheering some mornings, when we see him fighting tobreak away from storm clouds which wrap him around.
At first we can see nothing but clouds from where we stand on Bob'sHill. Then, the clouds begin to lift a little and Peck's Falls woodsgradually come into view. A little later the very tiptop of the mountainbegins to show, floating like an island in an ocean of mist. While welook, the clouds fall away still more, making the island larger andlarger, and the bottom mists roll up the wooded sides of the hill.
In a few minutes old Greylock throws them off altogether and standsthere, with his scars showing, except that across his face a narrowcloud sometimes hangs like a billowy screen, giving him, Ma says, a lookof majesty as if God was living there.
Anyhow, we boys can't help cheering when the mountain shakes off hisbonds and stands forth like a giant Scout, telling us to be cheerful andbrave and reverent and all that.
The great rains did more than scar the face of Greylock. They kept usfrom starting on our trip at the time we had planned to go.
"Wait until the woods dry out," Mr. Norton told us. "The roads are toomuddy now to think of starting, and you couldn't have any fun if thewoods were wet. A week of sunshine will fix things all right."
We hated to wait, but there was plenty to do getting ready, so that thetime did not seem long.
"We'll carry no firearms," he went on. "Guns seemed necessary when thiswas a wilderness, but we are going over a fairly well traveled road.Scouts do not believe in wanton killing, anyway."
"How about bears?" asked Skinny, anxiously.
"I have made careful inquiries and have not found anybody who has seen abear along that road in years. I know you found one near the Savoy road,or he found you, but that cub was as badly frightened as you were.Should any of us see a bear, which is not at all likely, I don't believethere is anything in Scout law to keep us from running one way while thebear is running another."
"I don't know about a Scout's running," Skinny told him. "Of course Iran, but I didn't run far, only to the nearest tree, so that I couldlasso him better."
"Well, that's all right. Run to the nearest tree and then give the Scoutsignal. Some of the noises which you boys make, especially William,would scare a whole drove of bears."
"Anyhow, I'm going to carry my rope."
"I'll tell you what we can do. We'll put in the week making bows andarrows. Every boy should carry with him a good bow, made of hickory,hemlock, or mountain ash, and a quiver full of arrows. You never willhave a better chance to become experts in archery."
We thought that we would make them of hemlock, because there are plentyof hemlock trees up above Peck's Falls and in Plunkett's woods, but Mr.Norton told us that we ought to make them of seasoned wood. The next dayhe sent some seasoned hickory over to our barn and we made the bows andarrows of that.
We took a lot of pains with them, and a carpenter that Hank knew helpedus some. Before the week was over we had some weapons which Skinny saidhe knew we could scare a bear with, anyhow. Each Scout's bow was aboutas long as himself and an inch thick in the center. The ends were shaveddown until they bent evenly. For string, we used strong, unbleachedlinen threads, twisted together. Benny made his bow so stiff at firstthat he couldn't bend it, but Hank showed him how to shave it down,until he could draw the string back twenty-three inches, like the booksays.
The arrows gave us the most trouble because they had to be so straightand round. We made them twenty-five inches long and about three-eighthsof an inch thick, and we glued turkey feathers on near the notched end.The other end we fitted into a brass ferrule, to keep the wood fromsplitting. The arrows looked fine, when we had them made and painted.Each boy painted his a different way, so that we could tell which onekilled the bear.
Mr. Norton showed us how to make guards for the left wrist, to keep thebow cord from striking it. To protect the fingers of the right hand, weused an old leather glove, with the thumb and little finger cut away.
I'll never forget the morning we started. After breakfast the boys, allin uniform, came over to my house. Pretty soon Mr. Norton drove up in alight wagon, loaded with tents, camp outfit, and things to eat.
We greeted him with cheers, and when he had come close gave him theScout salute.
"Come on, boys. Let's get started, if you are ready," he said. "We havea long walk ahead of us, if we expect to camp on Florida Mountainto-night."
"Great snakes!" said Bill. "That listens good to little Willie!" And hegave a yell that brought people out of their houses, all up and downPark Street.
"Boys," said Pa, just as we were starting, "remember that your folks aretrusting you and, as we understand it, a Scout's honor is to be trusted.Remember, too, that it is a Scout's duty to obey orders and that the oneto give you orders while you are away is Mr. Norton. And let me add thathe has my full sympathy. If he isn't worn to a frazzle before he getsback, I'll miss my guess."
In another minute we were off, the folks calling good-bys after us andshouting for us to remember this and not to forget that and not to dosomething else.
Mr. Norton drove the horse at the start because he knew that we wouldwant to march through town, and away we went, with our bows and arrowson our backs, and Skinny, with his rope and hatchet, which he called histomahawk.
At the Gingham Ground we found the boys of Eagle Patrol drawn up by theside of the road. They saluted and cheered as we passed.
"If we have good luck this time, we'll take you next year," called Mr.Norton. "I'm new at the business, myself, and eight youngsters are all Iwant to tackle the first time."
"Skinny! Oh, Skinny-y-y!" yelled Jim, when we were almost out ofhearing.
We stopped and waited to find out what was wanted.
"Don't kill all the game-e-e. Save some for seed."
Skinny's only answer was to wave his tomahawk. Then we marched on towardNorth Adams, and at nearly every house we passed people came to the doorto see what was going on. It made us feel proud.
We took turns riding, two or three boys in the wagon at a time, becauseMr. Norton said that he didn't want us to get all tired out before westarted and that we shouldn't be really started until we came to themountain.
The day was fine and the roads were getting dusty again. We were sohappy that almost before we knew it we came to the foot of a hill, whichled up into the mountain, and there we stopped to eat lunch.
Before leaving home, I asked Pa why they called it Florida Mountain andwhy they called a little town on top Florida, and he said because thatwas its name. Anyhow, they call 'em that. Before Hoosac Tunnel was builtunder the mountain, a stage coach made regular trips over it, along theroad we were going to take. That was the only way people had to get toGreenfield and the other towns on the east side, without going south toPittsfield and from there going over Mount Washington on the Boston &Albany Railroad. Now, there is a big hole under the mountain, more thanfour miles long, and trains go through in a few minutes.
After we had eaten and had a good rest, we started up a road, which wecould see winding up the mountainside, far above us.
"Now, boys," said Mr. Norton, "we don't have to make this trip all inone day. We are out for fun and to learn something about scouting; if weclimb too far in this hot sun it will get to be work instead of play. Ipropose that we climb slowly, taking plenty of time to enjoy thewonderful views that will unfold before us with every turn of the road.You boys can stop whenever you feel like it, to rest, or explore, orshoot. Before we get to the top, we'll pitch our tents near some spring,in full view of the valley and setting sun. We'll plan it so as to haveseveral hours of daylight left after we go into camp for the night. Whatdo you say?"
That suited us all right and away we went, with Benny driving, and theold horse moving along in good shape.
Say, no tu
nnels for us, after this! Tunnels are all right when you arein a hurry. But were we in a hurry? I guess not!
It was just as Mr. Norton had told us. At every turn of the road, andmountain roads wind around with a lot of turns instead of going straightup, we stopped to look back over the valley. And every time we stoppedit looked different. It was great. And the higher we climbed, the betterit looked and the farther we could see, until the whole valley laybefore us, all the way to Pittsfield and west toward the Hudson. To thenorth, the Green Mountains of Vermont looked blue in the distance.Across the valley, on the south, old Greylock put his head up above theother peaks and watched us, wondering, we thought, why we were going upFlorida Mountain instead of climbing over him.
"Hurray!" yelled Skinny. "I'm Captain Clark, exploring the greatNorthwest."
"I'm Captain Lewis," shouted Benny, strutting around and waving his bow.
"Me Injun chief," said Bill. "Ugh! Heap pale face get lost. No findtrail. Injun show um way."
Then he gave such a yell that it scared the horse and we hardly couldkeep up.
About four o'clock in the afternoon we came to a spring near the top ofthe mountain, and a little beyond, through the trees, we could see agrassy slope, just the place for our camp.
"This looks good to me," said Mr. Norton, driving up to the side of theroad and blocking the wheels of the wagon. "We'll give the horse adrink after he cools off a little and unload the things which we shallneed to-night."
It looked like an Indian village there, when we had finished setting thetents up. For beds we went into the woods and cut branches of hemlock,which we wove into mattresses and covered with blankets.
"Let's play 'Hunt the Deer,'" said Skinny, when all was ready for thenight and Mr. Norton had sat down to rest on a rock, overlooking thevalley.
"All right, boys," he told us. "I want you to have the time of yourlives on this trip and I know that even a view like this will not longsatisfy a boy. But don't go far and remember your Scout training. Youwill usually find moss on the north side of tree trunks."
"We know that," said Skinny. "We tried it once on Greylock, when we werelost, and it worked all right."
"You can't get lost. I believe I could hear William call anywhere on themountain. The sun is shining and your shadows will point east. Comeback in time for supper. I'll be cook to-night, but after this you boyswill have to take turns."
"We'll get back in time, never fear," Skinny told him. "We are hungryenough now to gnaw the bark off the trees."
Then he grabbed a bag which was stuffed with hay, put an ear of corn inhis pocket, and started.
"Give me ten minutes," he said.
It was a game which we had read about in the book. The stuffed bag wasthe deer and the corn was for the trail. The game was for Skinny toscatter corn along, making a crooked trail for us to follow, and then tohide the deer somewhere for us to find.
After Skinny had made a good start, we scattered, looking for thetrail--corn, footprints, and other signs.
It was great fun and not easy for beginners like we were. Sometimes welost the trail altogether. Then one of us would pick it up again, whereSkinny maybe had doubled back toward the camp.
Finally Bill caught sight of the bag in some bushes and yelled:
"Deer!"
Hank hurried up and called, "Second!" I saw it third and all the boyssoon after except Benny. He had lost the trail and was beating around inthe woods somewhere, out of sight and hearing.
It was Bill's first shot and he had to stand where he was when he firstsaw the deer. He took out an arrow, aimed carefully, and fired. Thearrow went so fast that I believe it almost would have killed a realdeer if it had hit him, but he aimed too high and it went over.
Then Hank stepped five paces toward the deer and shot. He missed. Istepped up five paces more and I missed. Harry went five paces closerand was the first to hit it. After that we all shot from where he hadstood, until we all had hit it.
Skinny had come up and I was just asking him if he had seen Benny, whenwe heard a great crashing through the bushes and in a minute he came insight, running like sixty.
He was almost tuckered out when he reached us and had only breath enoughleft to say:
"Run! It's a bear!"
We ran, all right, but after a little I looked back and could see thatthere was nothing following.
"Hold up--a minute," I panted. "It--ain't a-comin'."
"Where was it, Benny?" I asked, when they had come back. "Where did yousee it?"
"I didn't see it. I only heard it. It was stepping around in the bushesand I heard it grunt. I didn't wait to see it."
"I wish I had my rope," said Skinny. "I left it in the wagon. Come on,anyhow. We'll surround the critter and shoot him."
Skinny scared us when he said that. I could feel cold chills chasing upand down my back bone, when I thought of surrounding a live bear.
"Great snakes!" said Bill. "I hope it's a big one, so Skinny can hit it.He couldn't hit a little one."
"I couldn't, couldn't I?" said he. "I'll show you whether I can hit itor not. Come on. I'll dare you to."
That settled it. We weren't going to take a dare, but I was hoping allthe time that the bear had run away. So, with Benny keeping close to meand pointing the way, we crept through the woods, not making any noise,and each boy held his bow and arrow ready to shoot.
It was scary but it was fun. Finally, with an excited pinch of my arm,Benny stopped and pointed.
My heart throbbed like a trip-hammer, and I hardly could hold my arrowon the cord, for, looking through some bushes, I caught sight ofsomething black and heard the bear tramping around.
I heard Skinny muttering something about a rope; then he whispered:
"Get ready, and run as soon as you shoot."
"Aim."
We stood there, trembling, wanting to run first and shoot afterward, buttoo proud to. Each boy pointed his arrow toward where we could see thebear standing still behind some bushes and only a part, of him showing.
AS WE RAN, WE HEARD A YELL OF PAIN, OR FRIGHT, AND IT WASNOT A BEAR'S VOICE AT ALL.]
"Fire!"
I don't know when I fired. I only knew that my arrow was gone and I wasrunning for the camp like the wind, with the other Scouts chasing afterme.
As we ran, we heard a yell of pain, or fright, and it was not a bear'svoice at all. It was a woman's! Then we heard the voice say:
"For the love of Mike! The woods is full of Injuns and I've got an arrowin the pit of my stummick."
Boy Scouts of Bob's Hill Page 21