Boy Scouts on a Long Hike; Or, To the Rescue in the Black Water Swamps

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Boy Scouts on a Long Hike; Or, To the Rescue in the Black Water Swamps Page 10

by John Henry Goldfrap


  CHAPTER X

  DUTY ABOVE ALL THINGS

  "Gee! whiz! that's tough!"

  Fritz gave vent to his overwrought feelings after this boyish fashion;and his words doubtless echoed the thought that was in the mind of everyfellow in that little bunch of staring scouts.

  True enough, the badly damaged balloon had taken a sudden dip downward,as though unable to longer remain afloat, with such a scanty supply ofgas aboard; and as Seth said, it certainly looked as though it hadchosen the very worst place possible to drop--about in the heart of theswamp.

  "Now, why couldn't the old thing have dipped low enough right here forus to grab that trailing rope?" demanded Jotham, dejectedly; for heimmediately began to feel that all manner of terrible things were instore for the aeronaut, if, as seemed likely, he would be marooned inthe unknown morass, with no means of finding his way out, and an injuredleg in the bargain to contend with.

  "Hope he didn't come down hard enough to hurt much," remarked Andy.

  "Huh! if half we've heard about that place is true, little danger ofthat," declared Seth. "Chances are he dropped with a splash into a bedof muck. I only hope he don't get drowned before help comes along!"

  "Help! what sort of help can reach him there?" observed Fritz, solemnly;and then once again did those eight scouts exchange uneasy glances.

  "As soon as we let them know in Beverly, why, sure they'll organize somesort of relief expedition. I know a dozen men who'd be only too glad tolend a helping hand to a lost aeronaut," Andy went on to say.

  "Wherever do you suppose he came from, Paul?" asked Eben.

  "Say, didn't you hear him say St. Louis?" demanded Seth. "Better takesome of that wax out of your ears, Eben."

  "Whee! that's a pretty good ways off, seems to me," the bugler remarked,shaking his head, as though he found the story hard to believe.

  "Why, that's nothing to brag of," Seth assured him. "They have bigballoon races from St. Louis every year, nearly, and the gas-bags drifthundreds of miles across the country. I read about several that landedin New Jersey, and one away up in Canada won the prize. This one metwith trouble before it got many miles on its journey. And he wants us toreport that the _Great Republic_ is down; Anderson, he said his namewas, didn't he, Paul?"

  "Yes, that was it," replied the scoutmaster.

  Paul seemed to be looking unusually grave, and the others realized thathe must have something of more than usual importance on his mind.

  "How about that, Paul," broke out Fritz, who had been watching the faceof the patrol leader, "we're about eighteen miles away from home; andmust we wait till we get there to start help out for that poor chap?"

  "He might die before then," remarked Jotham seriously.

  Again a strange silence seemed to brood over the whole patrol. Everyfellow no doubt was thinking the same thing just then, and yet each boyhated to be the one to put it into words.

  They had taken so much pride in the big hike that to even suggest givingit up, and just in the supreme moment of victory, as it were, seemednext door to sacrilege, and yet they could not get around the fact thatit seemed right up to them to try and save that forlorn aeronaut. Hislife was imperiled, and scouts are always taught to make sacrifices whenthey can stretch out a hand to help any one in jeopardy.

  Paul heaved a great sigh.

  "Fellows," he said, solemnly, "I'm going to put it up to you this time,because I feel that the responsibility ought to be shared; and remembermajority rules whenever the scoutmaster thinks best to let the troopdecide."

  "All right, Paul," muttered Seth, dejectedly.

  "It's only fair that you should saddle some of the responsibility on therest of the bunch," admitted Jotham, hardly a bit more happy lookingthan Seth; for of course every one of them knew what was coming; andcould give a pretty good guess as to the consequences.

  "That's a fact," added Fritz, "so out with it, Paul. When I've got abitter dose to swallow I want to hurry, and get it over."

  "It hurts none of you more than it does me," went on the scoutmaster,firmly, "because I had set my heart on winning that fine trophy; andthere'll be a lot of people disappointed this afternoon when we fail toshow up, if we do."

  "Sure thing," grunted Seth, "I c'n see our friend, Freddy Rossiter,going around with that sickly grin on his face, telling everybody thathe always knew we were a lot of fakirs, and greatly overrated; and that,like as not, even if we did show up we'd a been carried many a mile onsome hay-wagon. But go on, Paul; let's have the funeral quick, so afeller c'n breathe free again."

  "I'm going to put a motion, and every scout has a right to vote just ashe thinks best. Only before you decide, stop and think what it allmeans, to that poor man as well as ourselves," Paul continued.

  "Ready for the motion," mumbled Fritz, who looked as though he had losthis very last friend, or was beginning to feel the advance symptoms ofsea sickness.

  "All in favor of changing our plans, and trying to rescue the lostballoonist right now, say yes," the scoutmaster demanded, in as firm atone as he could muster.

  A chorus of affirmatives rang out; some of the boys were a little weakin the reply they made, for it came with an awful wrench; but so far asPaul could decide the response was unanimous.

  He smiled then.

  "I'm proud of you, fellows, yes I am," he declared heartily. "I think Iknow just what each and every one of you feels, and when you give up athing you've been setting your minds on so long, and just when it looksas if we had an easy walk-over, I'm sure it does you credit. Some of theBeverly people may laugh, and make fun when we fail to turn up thisafternoon; but believe me, when we do come in, and they learn what'shappened, those for whose opinion we care will think all the more of usfor doing what we mean to."

  "Hope so," sighed Seth, who could not coax any sort of a smile to hisforlorn looking face, "but because I talk this way, Paul, don't you goand get the notion in your head that if the whole thing depended on meI'd do anything different from what we expect to. There's such a thingas duty that faces every scout who's worthy of the name. For that hemust expect to give up a whole lot of things he'd like to do. And you'llfind that I can stand it as well as the next feller."

  "P'raps when they know what happened, the committee'll be willing togive us a chance to make another try next week?" suggested Jotham.

  "Good boy, Jotham, and a clever idea," cried Fritz.

  Somehow the suggestion seemed to give every one a sensation of relief.

  "I think myself that we'll be given another chance to show what we cando," was what Paul remarked. "We can prove that we had the victory aboutas good as clinched when this unexpected thing came along. And I knowMr. Sargeant will be pleased to hear that we gave up our chances ofwinning that trophy because a sudden serious duty confronted us."

  "Then we're going to start right away to try and find the middle ofBlack Water Swamps--is that the idea, Paul?" inquired Seth.

  "That's what it amounts to, it looks like, to me," replied thescoutmaster, as he stood there in the open road, looking long andsteadily at the very spot where they had seen the last of the droppingballoon; just as though he might be fixing the locality on his mind forfuture use.

  "Do we all have to go, Paul, or are you going to let several of us trampalong to Beverly?" some one asked just then.

  "That depends on how you feel about it," was the answer the scoutmastergave. "It won't do any good for a part of the patrol to arrive on time,because, you remember one of the rules of the game is that every membermust fulfill the conditions, and make the full hundred miles hike. Doyou want to go to town, while the rest of us are searching the swampsfor the aeronaut, Eben?"

  "I should say not," hastily replied the bugler.

  "How about you, Noodles?" continued Paul.

  "Nixey doing; me for der swamps, undt you can put dot in your pipe undtsmoke idt," the one addressed replied, for there were times when thescouts, being off duty, could forget that Paul was anything other than achum.

  "Well,
" the patrol leader went on to say, laughingly, "I'm not going toask any other fellow, for I see by the looks on your faces that you'dtake it as an insult. So, the next thing to settle is where we'd betterstrike into the place."

  Seth came to the front again.

  "Well, you see, I talked a lot with that feller that got lost in there;and he told a heap of interesting things about the blooming old swamp,also where he always started into the same when trapping. You see,somehow I got a hazy idea in this silly head of mine that some time orother I might want to get a couple of chums to go with me, and try andsee what there was in the middle of the Black Water Swamps."

  "That's good, Seth," declared one of his mates, encouragingly.

  "The smartest thing you ever did, barring none," added Jotham.

  "It's apt to be of more or less use to us right now, and that's a fact,"was the way Paul put it.

  "I reckon," Andy remarked, looking thoughtfully at Seth, "that you couldtell right now whether we happened to be near that same place. It wouldbe a great piece of good luck if we could run across the entrance, andthe trail your trapper friend made, without going far away from here."

  "Let's see," continued Seth, screwing his forehead up into a series offunny wrinkles, as he usually did when trying to look serious orthoughtful, "he told me the path he used lay right under a big sycamoretree that must have been struck by a stray bolt of lightning, some timeor other, for all the limbs on the north side had been shaven cleanoff."

  "Well, I declare!" ejaculated Jotham.

  "Then you've noticed such a tree, have you?" asked Paul, instantly,recognizing the symptoms, for he had long made a study of each and everyscout in the troop, and knew their peculiarities.

  "Look over yonder, will you?" demanded Jotham, pointing.

  Immediately various exclamations arose.

  "That's the same old blasted sycamore he told me about, sure as you'reborn," declared Seth, with a wide grin of satisfaction.

  "The Beaver Patrol luck right in the start; didn't I say nothing couldhold out against that?" remarked Fritz.

  "Come along, Paul; let's be heading that way," suggested Jotham.

  In fact, all the scouts seemed anxious to get busy. The first pang ofregret over giving up their cherished plan had by this time worn away,and just like boys, they were now fairly wild to be doing the next bestthing. They entered heart and soul into things as they came along,whether it happened to be a baseball match; a football scrimmage on thegridiron; the searching for a lost trail in the woods, or answering thecall to dinner.

  And so the whole eight hurried along over the back road, meaning tobranch off at the point nearest to the tall sycamore that had beenvisited by a freak bolt from the thunder clouds, during some storm inyears gone by.

  Paul was not joining in the chatter that kept pace with their movements.He realized that he had a serious proposition on his hands just then.If so experienced a man as that muskrat trapper could get lost in BlackWater Swamps and stay lost for two whole days, it behooved a party ofboys, unfamiliar with such surroundings to be very careful in all theydid.

  But Paul had ever been known as a cautious fellow. He seldom acted fromimpulse except when it became actually necessary, in order to meet somesudden emergency; and then there were few who could do things morequickly than the patrol leader.

  In a case of this kind, the chances were that they must take unusualprecaution against losing their bearings; that is, they must feel thatthey had a back trail to follow in case forward progress becameimpossible, or inexpedient.

  Paul had his theory as to the best way to accomplish such a thing; andof course it had to do with "blazing" trees as they went along. In thisfashion all chances of making mistakes would be obviated; and if theyfailed to effect the rescue of the man who had dropped in the heart ofthe dismal morass at least the eight boys need not share his sad fate.

  Leaving the road they now headed straight for the sycamore that stood asa land mark, and a specimen of the freaks of lightning. No sooner hadthey reached it than Paul's eyes were on the ground.

  The others heard him give a pleased exclamation, and then say:

  "It's all right, fellows; because here is a well beaten trail that seemsto lead straight in to the place. And now, follow me in single file!"

 

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