CHAPTER XI
CHRISTMAS IN SMUGGLERS' HOLLOW
"Merry Christmas!"
At the sound of Pat's roar the three guests hastily tumbled out of theirbunks with answering greetings. A cheerful fire blazed up the chimneyand added its flickering light to that of a couple of candles, for thesun was not yet up. Alec was cutting bacon and Pat was mixing flapjackbatter.
"Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes, and the one who isn't readygoes hungry," he announced.
"It won't be yours truly," declared Hal, reaching for his clothes.
"My tummy, oh, my tummy! It gives me such a pain! I wonder will it ever----
"Say, who swiped one of my socks? I can't find but one, and I left 'emtogether." He began to toss things left and right in search of themissing article.
Meanwhile Upton was down on his knees fumbling under his bunk. At Hal'scomplaint he looked up suspiciously. "I can't find one of mine," hesputtered. "Somebody's been putting up a job on us. Hi! What the----" Hefinished by pointing toward the fireplace.
Hal looked. There hung his missing sock. Also one of Upton's and one ofSparrer's, all three misshapen and bulging.
"Ut would not be Christmas an' we did not hang the childer's stockings,"announced Pat gravely.
With a whoop the three boys fell on the stockings. Entering into thespirit of the occasion they seated themselves on the floor in front ofthe fire and pulled out the contents as gleefully as ever they hademptied Christmas stockings at home in their younger days. The giftswere trifling in themselves, but the better for that very fact. Therewere little packages of spruce-gum, a carved paper-knife, a tinybirch-bark canoe, whistles made from buck's horn, a rabbit's foot charm,and other knickknacks of the woods. Pat's voice broke into the midst ofthe babel produced by the discovery of the socks and their contents."Five minutes for those who want breakfast," he announced.
Instantly there was a mad scramble to finish dressing and when time wasup it was evident that no one proposed to go hungry that Christmasmorning. During the meal it was decided that Alec should remain at campto prepare for the grand feast while the others went in search ofrabbits. Walter and Hal, knowing the surrounding country, were to goeach on his own hook while Pat would take Sparrer with him. Just beforestarting the two former held a whispered conference. They had brought inwith them a few gifts for Pat and his partner and also some smallpackages which the home folks had pledged them not to open untilChristmas day. At Hal's suggestion it was decided to say nothing aboutthese until night and spring them as a surprise at the Christmas tree onwhich Hal had set his heart.
As Pat had foreseen, there was a crust on which the shoes made noimpression. Hal elected to go down the north side of the brook whileUpton took the opposite side. Pat and Sparrer were to visit a certainswamp not far distant. All were to be back at the cabin by eleveno'clock.
To Upton the tramp in that wonderful wilderness of glistening whitemeant far more than the hunt. As a matter of fact the very thought ofkilling anything amid such pure surroundings was repugnant to him. Tothis feeling a big white hare which foolishly sat up to stare at himwithin fifteen minutes after he had left the cabin undoubtedly owed itslife. Slowly the rifle had been raised until the sights rested squarelybetween the two innocent staring eyes. Then it had been as slowlylowered. "I can't do it, puss. The others will get all we need to eat, Iguess, so suppose you remove your pretty self from the range oftemptation," said he, taking a sudden forward step. Thereupon pusspromptly acted upon his advice, and so precipitately that Upton laughedaloud. "Merry Christmas!" he shouted as the bounding white formdisappeared.
That decided him. His heart was not in hunting that morning. What he didwant to do was just to tramp and drink in the beauty of the wonderfulscene. His rifle was a nuisance. He wished that he had not brought it atall. Why not cache it and pick it up on his way back? A hasty survey ofhis surroundings discovered a fire blackened hollow stub split its fulllength on one side. It was the very thing he was looking for. It was alandmark he could not very well miss on his return. He put his rifle init, tightened his belt, and then deliberately turned his back on thevalley and headed for the top of the ridge. He was in quest of views,and not of game.
Climbing a ridge on a snow crust is no child's play, as Walter soonfound out. It sometimes seemed as if he slipped back two feet for everyone he gained. He tried taking off the shoes, only to find that insheltered places he broke through and was worse off than on the slippingshoes. But he was grimly resolved that he would get to the top of theridge, cost him what it might. It was characteristic of the boy thatwhat he set out to do he did. So he ground his teeth and kept at it,slipping, scrambling, pulling himself up by brush and trees. After alittle he discovered that by zigzagging back and forth along the faceof the slope and taking advantage of every little inequality he couldmake fairly good progress.
Still it took an hour and a half of strenuous work to gain the covetedtop of the ridge, and he was thoroughly winded and weary, to say nothingof sundry bruises and scratches from frequent falls. Panting andperspiring he turned to look back. Below him lay Smugglers' Hollow, buthow different from the Hollow into which he had gazed for the first timein September! It was not less lonely or less wild. In fact if anythingthese features were accentuated. The mountains which seemed to encloseit on all sides were no less heroically grand and rugged, but they hadbeen robbed in a measure of their forbidding, somber gloom by thetransforming mantle of snow. The heavy stand of spruce on the oppositemountain no longer cloaked it with the shadows of night like a perpetualthreat of evil. Each tree was a pyramid of myriad gems flashing in thesun.
He could trace the course of the frozen brook through the heart of theHollow, a ribbon of white, smooth and unbroken, between the fringe ofalders on either side. He could see the cabin, or rather the roof andeaves, for the cabin itself was nearly buried in a drift. From thechimney a thin pencil of blue smoke rose straight up in the still air.It was the one thing needed. It in no way marred the grandeur of thescene, but it saved it from utter desolation. Something of this sortflitted vaguely through Upton's mind. Then he heard the faint crack of arifle on the opposite side of the Hollow, followed by two more cracks.The smoke and the sound of the rifle removed the last vestige oftemporary depression which the grandeur of the scene and the uttersilence of the vast solitude had tended to produce.
"Hal's got into a bunch of 'em or else his shooting eye is off," hechuckled and turned to scan the ridge he was on to the west. Itpresented a broken line of low peaks. One slightly higher than the restmarked the place where the pass to the Hollow entered. It was the hillfrom which the Lost Trail party had first looked into Smugglers' Hollow,and the view from the summit was more complete than from the pointWalter now occupied.
"I'd like to get up there," he thought, "but it's a little too much ofan undertaking on this crust. Besides, it would make me late for dinner.Hello! Wonder what that is."
He had caught a sudden flash on the highest point of the peak. As hewatched he saw it again. His first thought had been that it was the sunreflected from a bit of ice, but an instant's thought convinced him thatthis couldn't be. It would of necessity be fixed and steady. The flasheshe had seen were made by something moving. With this knowledge came thesudden conviction that the flashes were caused by the sun striking onpolished metal. Hastily feeling in his rucksack he drew out a pair ofopera-glasses which he always carried with him for use in studying birdsand animals. They were not very strong, but sufficiently so to bring thepeak perceptibly nearer. At first he could make out nothing unusual.Then through the glasses he caught that flash again and focussed them asnearly as possible on the spot from which it had come. For some minuteshe saw nothing suspicious. He was almost ready to give up and concludethat it was in his imagination when he was positive that he sawsomething move back of a stunted little spruce growing from a cleft inthe rocks at the point where he had located the flashes.
Instantly every instinct of the true scout was aroused. There
wassomething alive back of that little spruce. It might be an animal andthen again it might be a man. At once there flashed into his mind Alec'saccount of the robbed traps. Could it be that one of the thieves wasreconnoitering the Hollow? His heart gave a queer jump at the thought.Anyway it was clearly up to him to find out what he could.
Rapidly he reviewed the situation. It was clear that from his presentlocation he would gain no further information if his suspicions weretrue. If an enemy was watching from behind that spruce he wasundoubtedly aware of Walter's presence, for he was standing in the open.Beyond question he had been watched from the time he left the cabin. Tomake a false move now would be to give warning. He regretted that he hadgazed so long at the suspected point. That in itself would be sufficientto arouse suspicion in the mind of any one hiding there. The firstthing then was to allay any such suspicion.
Deliberately he turned his glasses across the Hollow and studied theopposite mountain for a greater length of time than he had watched thepoint where he had seen the flash. Then he squatted down and leisurelyturned his glasses from point to point in the Hollow in the manner ofone having no interest in anything but the view. Not once did he glanceback along the ridge, although he was burning with curiosity and desireto do so. He ignored it as if it held no further interest for himwhatever. For perhaps ten minutes he continued to act the part of a meresightseer. Then putting his glasses back in his rucksack he stretchedlazily and in a leisurely manner began to pick his way down into alittle draw which cut back into the ridge in the opposite direction fromthe pass. Once down in this he would be out of sight of a possiblewatcher at the spruce lookout.
As soon as he was sure that he was beyond observation Upton hurried. Thedraw led back into a thick stand of young growth, and he hoped byworking up through this to be able to cross the ridge unobserved andwork back to a point which he had carefully noted and from which, owingto the change of angle, he felt sure he would be able to see back of thelittle spruce tree which had previously cut off his view. Getting up tothe top of the ridge was stiff work for an inexperienced snow-shoer in ahurry and was productive of many tumbles, but it was accomplished atlast. After this it was comparatively easy to work along just below thetop on the back side to the point he had selected.
There he cautiously crept into a thicket of young spruce and, his heartbeating like a trip-hammer with excitement, carefully parted thebranches until he could get a clear view. His hands trembled as he drewout the glasses. Would he discover anything, or had he been wrought upto such a pitch over nothing? The little spruce leaped out clear anddistinct as he got the focus. "Ha!" The exclamation was whollyinvoluntary and he experienced an absurd impulse to look around to makesure that he had not been overheard, although he knew that he wasabsolutely alone.
The cause was the figure of a man squatting behind the spruce andpeering intently into the valley. He wore a fur cup pulled low to shadehis eyes, and this, together with the distance, made it impossible forUpton to see his features clearly, but somehow he received an unshakableconviction that it was an Indian or a half-breed. A rifle leaned againstthe tree and doubtless it was the glint of the sun on its polishedsurface that had produced the mysterious flashes that had first caughthis attention.
"He's watching to see if I go back to the cabin," thought Walter. "If hedoesn't see me by the time the others return he'll smell a rat. There'snothing more to be gained by staying here. I've proved that we are beingwatched, and that's all I can do. It's up to me to get back and tell theothers."
Cautiously the boy retreated through the thicket until he was below thecap of the ridge. Then he hurried, running when he could and finding itless difficult than he had imagined. He crossed above the head of thedraw and went on until he had reached a point which he judged must beabout opposite to where he had left his rifle in the hollow tree. Hisfirst impulse had been to keep on until he could come out directly inthe rear of the cabin, but on second thought he had decided that itwould be wiser to return by the same way that he had left and get hisrifle. If he had been seen leaving the cabin with his rifle it wouldlook odd, to say the least, if he should be seen returning without it.
In climbing the ridge he had zigzagged back and forth, picking theeasiest grade, but now he was too impatient for so slow a method ofdescent and plunged straight down, slipping, sliding, checking himselfby catching at trees and brush, getting a fall now and then as the webof his shoes caught in a stick, but on the whole doing very well. Onething he had not considered as he should have--the possibility ofslipping over an unseen ledge. It was brought home to him when hebrought a rather long slide to an abrupt end by catching a tree on thevery edge of a sheer drop of perhaps eight feet.
"Phew!" he gasped. "A little more and I'd have gone over that and had anasty tumble. Been the same way if it had been a fifty foot ledge. Isee where little Walter will be turning up missing one of these days ifhe doesn't look out. It's a poor scout who takes needless chances interritory he isn't familiar with. I'll be more careful hereafter."
He peered over the edge of the ledge. Below the snow had drifted deepand it was clear. The ledge ran east and west for some distance, and tomake a detour would take time. His first thought was to kick off hisshoes, toss them down and then jump. But if he did this he would be sureto break through the crust and he had no means of knowing the depth ofthat drift or what might be underneath it. He had no desire to find out.He must either jump on his shoes or go around, and the temptation was tojump.
"May as well learn to jump now as another time," he muttered, for thetime being forgetting that in the event of a mishap, such as a twistedankle, he would be helpless in a temperature far below zero.
He walked back a bit, took three or four long quick strides and leaped.As he left the edge of the little bluff he felt the tails of his shoesdrop until the big webs hung from his feet at an angle but slightly offthe perpendicular. A momentary doubt of a successful landing flashedthrough his mind. He had a vision of an ignominious plunge through thecrust and perhaps broken shoes. Then automatically he set himself forthe landing, arms spread, body thrust forward and knees bent. It seemedas if those hanging shoes certainly must trip him. A second later hestruck the crust in a half crouch. The crust cracked and gave a little,just enough to prevent the shoes from sliding. With a quick step heregained his balance and with a sense of exhilaration realized that hehad made successfully his first jump on snow-shoes.
From this point he had little difficulty in reaching the hollow stub,where he secured his rifle and then turned toward the cabin. Hal wasjust coming in. From one hand dangled a snow-shoe rabbit.
"Is that all you've got for all that shooting I've heard?" chaffedWalter.
Hal grinned. "Couldn't hit a balloon if it was big as a mountain andtied down in front of me," he confessed. "Don't know what the troublewas, but I just couldn't shoot. Wouldn't have got this fellow if hehadn't sat up and begged to be shot. Missed him a mile the first time atten yards. Bullet didn't go near enough to scare him. Second shot was nobetter. Got him on the third shot, but I believe at that he jumped infront of the bullet. You don't seem to have had even that much luck.What was the trouble? Haven't heard your rifle this morning."
"Didn't feel like hunting. Went up on the ridge to get the viewinstead," returned Walter carelessly. "Wonder how Sparrer made out."
They entered the cabin to find Pat and Sparrer already there, the latterso excited that he gave vent to a joyful whoop when he caught sight ofthem and rushed precipitately to the back of the room to drag forth twopairs of rabbits.
"Plugged 'em all meself!" he declared proudly.
The rabbits were duly examined and Sparrer was praised for hismarksmanship until his cheeks burned, Pat leading in piling it on thick.Two of the rabbits had been neatly drilled through the heads, a thirdhad "got it in the neck," as Pat put it, and the fourth had been shotthrough the body. Pat forestalled any criticism by explaining that thiswas the first rabbit they had found and he had told Sparrer to "shoot atthot little lump
av snow just by way av gettin' yer hand in." Quiteinnocently Sparrer had done so, and had nearly dropped the rifle insurprise when the lump of snow had resolved itself into a rabbit whichgave a few spasmodic kicks and then lay still.
Of course Hal was chaffed unmercifully over his one lone contribution tothe larder, especially when he admitted that he had shot at no less thanfive. But he took it good-naturedly, confessing that he was utterly atloss to account for his bad form.
Meanwhile Upton had said nothing about his discovery on the ridge. Hisfirst impulse had been to blurt out the news, but on second thought hehad decided not to. At the first opportunity he drew Pat aside and toldhim. The big fellow's face darkened. "Say nothing about it," hecounseled. "There's no use in spoiling a merry day, and the knowledgethat we are being watched will do them no good. There's nothing we cando about it to-day. 'Tis not likely they mean us any harm. It's the furthey are after, and they've just taken advantage of the crust whichleaves no trail to look us over and find out how many are in our party."
So Walter held his peace, and threw himself into the preparations fordinner as if he had nothing of more importance on his mind. ThatChristmas feast will never be forgotten by the three city lads. Therewas the promised roast of venison, a rabbit stew, potatoes baked in theashes, canned peas, biscuit, a jar of jam, and, to top off with, a hotapple pie made from evaporated apples. But the real surprise was a steakdone to a turn over the hot coals.
"Bear!" shouted Hal as he set his teeth in the first mouthful.
Alec smiled. "I see ye have tasted it before," said he.
"Once," replied Hal. "Louis Woodhull got one on that Swift River trip ayear ago last fall. But when did you get this fellow, and why have youkept so mum about it?"
Alec nodded toward the skin which was to be Spud Ely's. "It's the sameone," said he. "I've kept part of him ripening out in the storehouseagainst this day," he explained.
When they could eat no more there was a general loosening of belts andsighs of complete satisfaction into which Pat rudely broke with a demandfor dishwashers and wipers.
"Oh, can it!" grunted Hal. "When a fellow's in the seventh heaven whatdo you try to bring him down to earth again for?"
But Pat was obdurate, and with many an exaggerated grunt and groan theremains of the feast were cleared away, the dishes washed and the cabinset to rights. Then followed a lazy hour before the rifle match. It wasagreed that Pat and Alec, both of whom were expert shots, should countas a clean miss any shot not striking in the black, while the othersshould be credited with whatever their actual scores were. Each was tobe allowed ten shots. The bull's-eye counted ten, the first ring outsidecounted nine, the next ring eight, and so on. Each was allowed threetrial shots to get the range.
Hal was the first to take his trial shots. At the crack of the rifleUpton ran forward to examine the target. "Never touched it! Didn't evenhit the board! Some shooter you are, Hal!" he yelled.
Hal flushed, but said nothing. For his second shot he took plenty oftime and was as careful as he knew how to be. The result was the same.For his third shot he used a rest, which was contrary to the rules, butwas allowed, as this was only a trial shot. This time he nicked asplinter from one edge of the board on which the target was fastened.
"Here, let me see that rifle," cried Pat, striding forward and snatchingthe gun out of Hal's hands. He sighted it, then handed it back with agrin. "Will ye tell me how iver ye got thot wan rabbit wid a gun theloikes av thot?" he demanded.
"Why, what's the matter with the gun?" demanded Hal, reaching for it, apuzzled scowl furrowing his brows.
Alec forestalled him and took the rifle from Pat's hands. He in turnsighted along the barrel. "Laddie," said he, the soberness of his facebelied by the twinkle in his eyes, "do ye no ken that a gun is like afine lady? It must be treated wi' respect."
Hal took the gun with a puzzled look. "I don't quite get you fellowsyet," said he.
Pat laughed outright. "Look at your forward sight, man. You've hit theend of your barrel against something and knocked that sight a wee bitout of alignment. It must have been pure luck that you got that rabbitthis morning."
"Use my rifle," interrupted Walter.
"Thanks," replied Hal. "I believe I will. Even if I got the sightsadjusted on my gun I shouldn't be able to shoot. Every time I made apoor shot I'd have the feeling that it was the gun's fault. My, but itis a relief to know that I haven't gone back in my shooting quite sobadly as all that."
All having made their trial shots the match was on. Walter shot first,getting five tens, four nines and an eight, a total of ninety-four. Alecwas next, and his first shot was a nine, followed by nine bull's-eyes, atotal of ninety under his handicap. Hal started off with a seven, wentinto the black six times in succession, then got two eights and wound upwith a nine, total ninety-two. Sparrer gave them a surprise witheighty-seven and Pat slapped him on the back. The coaching he hadreceived that morning during the rabbit hunt had not been in vain. Patwas the last man up, and shot rapidly and with seeming carelessness, butthe succession of bull's-eyes was proof that this was more apparent thanreal. His last shot, however, barely touched the edge of the black, andhe insisted that it be counted a miss, tying him with Alec and givingWalter the match.
After this Pat and Alec shot a friendly match. While this was going onHal slipped back to the cabin. He had marked a small spruce of perfectshape not far from the rear of the cabin, and this he now cut anddragged in. By the time the shooting was over he had it set up at therear of the room and had stretched a blanket across so as to screen it.When his comrades came trooping in they were warned not to peep behindit under threat of dire penalties. He made one exception. He neededUpton's help and also the gifts that Walter had brought from home.
By the time they had finished it was quite dark in the cabin. Theypiled logs on the fire and when the blaze was leaping merrily up thechimney and casting a warm ruddy light over the room Hal suggested thatthey draw up to the fire for a Christmas story. He chose the Germanlegend of the origin of the Christmas tree. He possessed no mean skillas a story-teller and he threw himself into the telling of this so thathis listeners sat in rapt attention.
Just before the conclusion he gave Walter a signal and the latter aroseand slipped back of the blanket. As the story ended the blanket waspulled down and there was the little tree glittering with lights andtinsel and hung with the gifts which the boys had brought. There was adelighted gasp from Pat, Alec and Sparrer and then a silence that was atribute in itself as they watched the colored candles gradually shorten.The truth is it was the first Christmas tree within the experience ofany one of the three, and they were as delighted as any children couldhave been.
When the candles had burned down to the danger point Hal blew them outand then distributed the gifts, which were opened amid much hilarityand fun making.
"This makes up for the stockings this morning," he laughed as the othersshowered him with fulsome praise.
"It more than makes up," declared Pat. "'Tis a Christmas I'll neverforget." Then as he lovingly fingered a long desired book sent in byDoctor Merriam he added: "But when did you think of the tree idea? Wasit in New York?"
Hal nodded. "The idea came to me the very day we left. Saw a window fullof tree fixings and on the impulse ran in and got the candles andtinsel. Glad you like it."
An hour of story-telling followed ere they turned in and silence like aChristmas benediction settled over the cabin.
The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp Page 12