Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morganand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net
The Boy Scouts On the Trail
OR
Scouting through the Big Game Country
By HERBERT CARTER
Author of "The Boy Scouts' First Camp Fire," "The Boy Scouts in the Blue Ridge," "The Boy Scouts on the Trail," "The Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods," "The Boy Scouts In the Rockies"
Copyright, 1913 By A. L. Burt Company
"Did you get him, Thad?" shouted the boys. "Come over here, all of you!" said Thad. Page 83 --_The Boy Scouts on the Trail._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I. What Took the Scouts up into Maine. 3 II. The Troubles of Bumpus. 11 III. A Strange Discovery. 20 IV. The Ignorance of Step Hen. 31 V. The Tell-tale Tracks. 40 VI. A Sheriff's Posse. 51 VII. The Birch Bark Challenge. 60 VIII. Out for Big Game. 69 IX. "GOOD Shot! Great Little Gun!" 77 X. The Old Trapper's Cabin. 85 XI. On the Wings of the Night Wind. 96 XII. A Face in the Window. 106 XIII. The Marked Shoe Again. 115 XIV. Figuring It Out. 123 XV. The Luck That Came to Bumpus. 131 XVI. A Little Knowledge, Well Earned. 148 XVII. The Coming of the Hairy Honey Thief. 156 XVIII. A Mighty Nimrod. 164 XIX. The "Whine" of a Bullet. 173 XX. A Wonderful Find. 181 XXI. The Dummy Packet. 190 XXII. The Night Alarm. 198 XXIII. A Flank Movement. 206 XXIV. What Woodcraft Does. 215 XXV. Surprising Charlie. 223 XXVI. The Sheriff Gets His Shock, Too. 231 XXVII. Down the River--Conclusion. 240
THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL
CHAPTER I. WHAT TOOK THE SCOUTS UP INTO MAINE.
"There never was such great luck as this, fellows!"
"You're right there, Step Hen; and never will be again, that's sure!"
"Let's see; first, there was that silly old epidemic breaking out in ourtown, and forcing the directors to put up the bars in the school tillafter the Christmas holidays; that was a great and glorious snap for theSilver Fox Patrol of the Cranford Troop of Boy Scouts, wasn't it?"
"But that was only a beginning, Giraffe; there were better things stillheaded our way."
"Sure there were, Davy. As luck would have it, just at that same timeThad Brewster's guardian found that it was mighty necessary he get wordto a gentleman by the name of James W. Carson. He wired up to Maine, youremember, only to learn that Mr. Carson, who was a great hunter, hadstarted into the big game country after moose, with a couple of guides,and wouldn't be back until late in the winter."
"Everything just worked for us, seemed like," remarked the boy calledDavy. "Thad suggested that he be sent up to follow this party, anddeliver the message, and his guardian fell in with the idea right away,didn't he, Thad?"
"I think he was only too willing, boys; because he knew we wanted to getup in Maine the worst kind; ever since our comrade, Allan Hollister here,began to tell us such splendid stories of the fun to be had in the pinewoods of his home state. But go on, Step Hen, finish the story whileyou're about it."
"Why, of course, when Thad, he found he could go, that gave him an idea;and sure enough, the whole of the patrol got the fever. Bob Quail had togive it up, because he had too much on hand to leave home just then; andSmithy had the hard luck to get a touch of the plague that had dropped inon Cranford for a visit; but didn't the rest of us hit it up, though?"
"I should say we did, as sure as my name's Davy Jones!"
"Well, the upshot of the whole matter was that one fine day six of usleft Cranford, bound for Maine, with all our camp stuff along; and herewe are at last, in the country of big game, canoes, guides, tents, andeverything along we need for a month of good times, or more if we wantit."
"But don't forget, Step Hen, that the one main object of the trip is tofind Mr. James W. Carson," interrupted the boy named Thad; who seemed tobe looked up to as the leader of the scout patrol, which office he reallyfilled.
"Sure," replied Step Hen, who was stretched out comfortably by a blazingfire. "But we've got heaps of time for hunting besides, and trying out alot of things we've been learning as scouts. It was fine for our richchum, Bob Quail, to insist on handing in a big lump of coin to add to thefunds contributed by our folks. That put us on easy street; and now, herewe are, as happy as clams at high tide, just finished our grub, andpitying the fellows left behind."
"Poor Smithy; poor Bob!" exclaimed the one who had called himself DavyJones.
There were six of them in all, and it was easy to see from the variousparts of the khaki uniforms that were in evidence, these lads belonged toa section of the Boy Scout organization.
Cranford had made a start in getting a troop together, and the firstpatrol of eight had been formed for some time. Another patrol waspromised by Spring, to be followed by others as the boys became attackedby the disease, and a desire to learn the numerous splendid things thatBoy Scouts find out.
Besides the acting scoutmaster, Thad Brewster, and his assistant, AllanHollister, there were Step Hen Bingham; Conrad Stedman, who on account ofhis long neck went by the characteristic name of "Giraffe" among hisfellows; Davy Jones; and last but far from least a short, puffy,rosy-faced boy who had once been christened Cornelius Jasper Hawtree; butfew people ever knew it, because he was called Bumpus by young and oldalike.
It was a little after the nooning hour. The boys had evidently beenpaddling part of the morning, for there were three long canoes close by,with as many men, doubtless guides, doing something to change theluggage, so that it would allow of a more even keel during the voyageup-stream.
These boys would have liked nothing better than to have come out here bythemselves, relying upon their knowledge of woodcraft to carry themthrough; for several of their number were well versed in such things.
Their parents, however, would not hear of such a thing; and theexpedition must have been wrecked on the rocks before it really started,only that the boys promised to take several guides along. And besides,Allan had informed them that by the new laws up in Maine, hunters werebound to employ regular licensed guides when going into the woods, torender the risk of fires less probable; since some city men are socareless about leaving a camp-fire burning when breaking up; and inconsequence whole districts have been burned over by the rising windscatteri
ng the brands among the leaves and pine needles.
But those three Maine guides were promised the easiest time of theirlives; since there were so many willing recruits to do the cooking; andlend a hand at the paddling.
One canoe carried, besides Thad and Step Hen, a dark-faced, quiet fellow,who was really a full blood Penobscot Indian, and of course namedSebattis, as nearly all of them seem to be.
The second was given over to Allan and Davy Jones, with a young guidenamed Jim Hasty; who, by the way was, about as slow and deliberate as anyone could be.
And the third boat had for a crew a real Maine character, Eli Crookes,about as straight as a pine tree; Giraffe, and Bumpus.
Of course the tents and various stores were divided up so that each canoecarried its share. Even so they seemed overloaded at times; but thenBumpus was accustomed to declaring that the danger of their founderinggrew less day by day, judging by the amount of eatables that disappearedafter each meal.
The fall season had set in so far that it was getting pretty cold in theNorthern Woods; and the boys had come prepared for such severe weather asmight be expected. But they were a hearty lot, and capable of standingalmost any amount of fatigue. Already had the outdoor life of scoutswrought a remarkable change in several who had been hitherto inclined tobe either lazy, or indifferent to their muscular development.
Bumpus Hawtree, fat little fellow that he was, could walk twice as farnow as when he first joined the patrol; and besides, his general fund ofknowledge had increased several hundred fold.
Step Hen, once the most careless and indifferent of boys, was nowadaysnoticing the wonderful things that can be seen all around in Nature'sworking; and thus he discovered that a fellow might have a fine time,even though left alone in the woods for a whole day!
Giraffe, too, had picked up amazingly; he never seemed to take on anymore flesh; but his arms and limbs were getting like iron; and he too wasbeginning to take a decided interest in affairs relating to the trail,the camp, and life in the open generally.
Then as to Davy Jones, who had once been known as the "Monkey," becauseof his indulging in all manner of acrobatic stunts, hanging by his toesfrom a high limb of a tree; standing on his head; walking on his hands;and turning back somersaults without the slightest warning, just asthough he belonged to a circus--even Davy was beginning to tone downsomewhat, and his breaks were not quite so numerous.
Of late however, strange to say, Bumpus had manifested an odd fascinationfor imitating some of the tricks to which the acrobatic Davy wasaddicted. He had begun to even fancy that he was actually becomingsupple, and could copy Davy with ease.
When these rivalries did not seem to be along a dangerous line Thadwisely kept quiet, knowing that Bumpus would speedily realize hisinability to compare with the active one; and besides they often affordeda deal of amusement for the balance of the patrol.
While the three guides were making sure that the last spark of their latecamp-fire had been extinguished, by pouring water from the river upon theashes, the boys were taking their places in the boats.
Davy was feeling particularly frisky; and resting his hands, one uponeither gunwale of the canoe, close to the bow, where he had his positionfor the afternoon, he threw himself up, with his heels in the air,cracking these together sharply.
"How's that, fellows?" he demanded. "Don't you call that a pretty goodpoise? Why, I guess I could do it even if we were shooting the rapids.Hey, Bumpus, that's one on you, all right," and the heels crackedtogether suggestively.
"Mebbe you think I ain't got the nerve to try that cute little dodge,"remarked the fat boy, aggressively. "I've done a heap of things youthought I couldn't. Now, you just wait and see your Dutch uncle show youa stunt worth two of that."
"Careful, Bumpus, the water's deep right here!" called out Thad, whoseback happened to be turned toward the other canoe just then, as he waschanging some of the stuff, so as to give his legs more room when he tookthe paddle.
"And likewise cold!" added Giraffe, who was grinning with anticipation ofthe fun that was coming.
But Bumpus was in deadly earnest. He gripped the sides of his canoe, justas he had seen Davy do; and then, giving a flirt into the air, started toextend his dumpy lower limbs upward.
But alas! Bumpus did not know how to stop going, once he got started. Theconsequence was, that instead of remaining at an exact perpendicular, hisbody kept on turning until he could no longer maintain his desperate gripon the narrow gunwales of the canvas canoe. And as a shout broke out fromseveral of the scouts, poor Bumpus went over the bow into the water;where he made a splash that must have dreadfully alarmed every speckledtrout that had not yet taken up its winter quarters.
The Boy Scouts on the Trail; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country Page 1