The Boy Scouts on the Trail; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country

by Herbert Carter

  CHAPTER III. A STRANGE DISCOVERY.

  "How about this for a camp site, Thad?" asked Allan, half an hour later.

  "Looks fishy around here, for a fact," remarked Step Hen, just as if heknew all about such things; when, truth to tell, he had a lot to learnbefore he could call himself much of a woodsman.

  "Wonder if there's any chance of finding that bee tree you said you wasgoin' to show me some time, when we got up in Maine?" spoke up Bumpus;who had managed for the time being to put his troubles out of his mind;for Thad assured him that after sleeping over it, most likely he wouldremember some little incident connected with his entering the bank onthat last morning in Cranford, and which would prove to his satisfactionthat he _must_ have delivered the letter there.

  "Well," said Allan, the Maine boy, "it's pretty late in the season totalk about bee trees, for I doubt if we'll find any of the little buzzersflying; and it's really necessary to have that happen in order to locatethe hive; but I'm going to keep my eye open all the time, Bumpus, and tryand accommodate you."

  "But just think of gettin' whole heaps of rich ripe honey!" ejaculatedGiraffe, who dearly loved eating; "say, wouldn't we have flapjacks everymorning then, boys, with honey to smear over them an inch thick? Um! um!take me to that bee tree as soon as you locate it, Allan, and give me anaxe. I promise to cut her down, remember that."

  "And I hope to hold you to that promise, Giraffe," returned the assistantpatrol leader. "But what d'ye say, Thad, shall we stop here?"

  "What do the guides say; how about it, Sebattis, Eli, Jim; will we be aptto pick up a mess of trout here, do you think?" and Thad turned to thebronzed Maine men, who nodded their heads, and one after the otherpromised that if the boys knew how to handle their rods, there should belittle difficulty in securing all they wanted, for a better pool couldnot be found along the river.

  A little side stream came into the main river with a noisy rush, fallingfrom a ledge; and under the cascade there was a very deep place, wherethe trout were likely to stay until the coming of thick ice caused themto bury themselves in the mud, after the fashion of most fish, until theice went out in the spring.

  Accordingly a landing was made, and soon all was bustle, the boys workingwith the three guides, as became true scouts, eager to learn all thelittle wrinkles of life in the open.

  The tents were soon erected. There were just two of these; and as thiswas apt to make it rather crowded, the guides had offered to sleepoutside except on any real stormy nights. They were hardened to theweather, and thought little of such a small matter.

  Of course Giraffe looked after making the fireplace, for he would nothear of anybody else having anything to do with that part of theprogramme. And Thad generally let the tall scout have his own way aboutthis one matter; he fancied that it might keep Giraffe out of mischief;as well as employ his time, and save the guides considerable work.

  And Giraffe certainly did extract more pleasure in making a fine cookingfire than any one Thad had ever seen. After supper was done he usuallyinsisted on having a rousing camp-fire, around which they could sit withhands clasped about their knees; or else lie in comfortable attitudes ontheir several blankets, while they coaxed the guides to tell them storiesof the woods, and the big animals they had come in contact with duringthe years spent in serving hunting parties on the trail of deer andmoose.

  Jim and Eli did about all the talking, for it was difficult to getSebattis to say anything about his experiences; though every one justknew the old Indian must be "as full of thrilling yarns as an egg is ofmeat," as Step Hen put it.

  Thad and Allan meanwhile had taken their rods, and set to work trying tocoax the shy trout to bite the bait they offered them. Both boys weregood fishermen, and had had considerable experience in the ways of thespeckled beauties; so that in the end they succeeded in getting a prettymess of the trout, enough to give them a fine feast that evening.

  One of the guides was set to work cleaning the fish even before the boysstopped taking them in; and about the time the sun sank out of sight inthe west, a most delicious odor began to arise, that Giraffe sniffed,with his eyes glistening; for this was the first mess of trout they hadcaught on this expedition.

  Later on the whole of them sat around the fire, and enjoyed one of themost tasty dishes ever placed before a hungry boy--fresh brook trout,rolled in cracker crumbs, and done to a turn in hot grease extracted fromseveral pieces of salt pork.

  "Only hope we get a few more chances to feast on this thing before theseason's up, or the cold drives the trout into winter quarters," remarkedGiraffe, as he heaved a sigh of regret because the pan was now empty--foreight hungry people it was of course necessary to use both largeskillets, and even then the supply never exceeded the demand.

  "But why should we bother our heads about the season, when we're away uphere, and with no one to know what we're doing?" demanded Step Hen.

  "That's just it, Step Hen," replied Thad, who seemed to think thequestion was intended for him; "we're Boy Scouts, and when we joined theorganization every one of us subscribed to certain rules, twelve innumber, you remember. Could you repeat those twelve cardinal principlesof the scouts for me right now, Step Hen?"

  The boy addressed turned a little red in the face; while the two Maineguides listened intently, evidently very much interested. Sebattis didnot seem to pay the least attention to what was going on; though that mayjust have been his way. These Indian guides have a habit of hearing, whennobody expects it.

  "Oh! sure, I can," Step Hen made answer, cheerfully enough.

  "Then please let us hear them," continued Thad.

  "Well," the scout went on to say, as if he easily knew the list by heart;"he promises to the best of his ability to be trustworthy, loyal, helpfulto others, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient to his superiors,cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent."

  "All right, Step Hen," the scoutmaster remarked, "the great State ofMaine trusts us. We've taken out licenses to shoot, up here. We'reentitled to a certain number of deer, and one moose apiece. And inaccepting these favors we virtually agreed to refrain from breaking thelaws. Can a scout be trustworthy who deliberately breaks a law, like thekilling of game, or the taking of fish out of season, when there's noreal excuse for it?"

  "Well, p'raps you're right, Thad," grumbled the other, rather loth to seethe point; "but s'pose now, I was lost in these here big pine woods, andhungry near to starving. I knew the season for trout was up, but it was acase of 'root hog, or die,' with poor Step Hen. Would you blame me then,if I just dropped a line to Mr. Trout and invited him to waltz into mylittle frying-pan?"

  Thad smiled.

  "There may be cases where breaking the game law is justifiable," heremarked, "and I'm not saying otherwise. I think that would be one ofthem. A fellow shouldn't be compelled to starve, with game around him,because certain men have decided that as a rule the laws ought to be madejust so and so. But Step Hen, if he were really just to his better self,I believe that scout would, when he had reached a point of safety, go toa game warden, state the case, and offer to pay the fine, if it had to beimposed. I rather guess the great state of Maine would do the generousthing, and remit such a fine."

  "Well, that lets Giraffe out, I see," remarked the still unconvinced StepHen. "Because he's always at the starving point."

  "All the same, boys, as true scouts, I hope none of you will bringdiscredit on the name of the Silver Fox Patrol by doing anything that isgoing to get us into trouble, in case we happen to meet a game warden.For one I'd like to look him in the eye, and feel my conscience clear,"and after that Thad changed the subject, with the hope that the weakmember might, when he had digested all that had been said, see the thingin its best light.

  "There's one thing we don't want to forget," Thad remarked later on, assome of the boys began to manifest a desire for a little "rough house"time.

  "What's that, Thad?" asked Allan, though doubtless he could already givea fair guess
as to what the reply was going to be, since he had seensigns of a frown on the forehead of the scoutmaster when the noise brokeout.

  "We mustn't forget," said Thad, "that right now we're on the border ofthe big game country, and any time we're apt to run across signs of deerand moose. Now, when hunters who know their business go into thewilderness, they don't kick up a row, and make all sorts of a racket thatwould tell the timid woods' folks a delegation of town people had invadedtheir haunts. If they did, they'd not be apt to find Mr. Moose withintwenty miles. How about that, Allan?"

  "You're right, Thad," replied the Maine boy, smiling. "Most of the deerhunters are what we call still hunters. They look for their game, andcreep up on it from the leeward side, with the wind coming from the deer.There is no dog chasing deer allowed in the state, or in New York, anylonger; so the noise and excitement is all gone. And in a noisy campyou'll find mighty few deer taken. It's the quiet, earnest fellows whosucceed in getting the game up here."

  "You hear that, scouts," said Thad, pleasantly. "We want game the worstkind, as well as to overtake that gentleman who is ahead of us, and whosetrail we're now following. So if you please, we'll dispense with theusual bugle blasts, and the horse play, while in camp here. Let's have ajolly good time, which I believe is possible among boys, withoutwrestling, and singing, and rough play. Am I right, Step Hen, Giraffe,Davy, Bumpus?"

  "You are, every time, Thad," said Bumpus, and the other three were quickto take their cue; so that from this hour it seemed likely that thescouts who were for the time being playing the part of big game hunters,meant to carry out the role to the letter.

  Jim looked at Eli, nodded his head, and winked. It was as though oneguide had said to the other that Thad Brewster knew his business, allright.

  About half an hour later Step Hen was seen to be moving about in thebushes near the edge of the camp, with his head bent low. Now, every oneknew what such an attitude meant when it was Step Hen who assumed it. Hehad lost something, as usual.

  "What's gone this time, Step Hen?" asked Thad.

  "That little jinx been around again, hooking your things?" demandedGiraffe, who always made all manner of fun of the careless scout wheneverhe complained that he was unable to find a certain thing, which he feltjust sure he had laid aside only a minute before.

  As usual Step Hen was simply positive that he could not have himselfmislaid his property. Proven guilty on numerous previous occasions didnot seem to convince the boy that he could ever do such a silly thingagain. This was always a case of where some mischievous chum had beenplaying a trick on him.

  "Why, it's that little bundle I fetched along, with a black piece ofwaterproof cloth around it, torn from an old rain coat," he explained, ashe continued to poke among the bushes. "It's got some things in it that Ithought I'd likely need up here, in case I happened to get lost; amongothers, a cute little compass, an extra box of parlor matches that youjust can't blow out in any wind, and some other little wrinkles."

  "Sounds all to the good, Step Hen," Thad went on to remark; "and I've nodoubt that if you ever did have the misfortune to get lost, while up herein Maine, that same little packet would come in mighty handy, providingyou chanced to have it with you at the time. If it was in camp, why, itcouldn't do you any good. But what makes you think it's gone now?"

  "I had it in my hand not ten minutes ago, and laid it carefully aside,"Step Hen went on, in a whining tone as though he felt hurt; but which wasdoubtless only assumed for the purpose of arousing sympathy; "oh! you cangrin as much as you want, Giraffe and Davy, but it's so, _this time_. Iwas careful as could be. And now, she's gone. I just know one of youfellers scooped that packet, and hid the same in the bushes, just to giveme a rough jolt. And that's why I'm hunting for it right now."

  Thad was on his feet at the time; and with a smile at the old complaint,which he had heard Step Hen make, time without end, only to find himselfcompelled to "eat his words," as Giraffe put it, he sauntered away,meaning to take a little look around, before turning in.

  Two minutes later Step Hen gave a little gurgling cry.

  "Found it?" asked Giraffe, with an interested air.

  "Just like I said was the case," came from Step Hen, in the bushes closeby. "The feller that took it just gave it a flirt, and over she came,right here. What! Well, I declare that's mighty funny now," and he pushedhis way into view carrying some object in his hand, at which he wasstaring incredulously.

  "Say, that ain't your package, is it, Step Hen?" demanded Giraffe.

  "I should say it wasn't;" replied the other scout; "but tell me, fellers,how in the wide world now, d'ye suppose this came in them bushes?" and heheld up what seemed to be a small hand-bag of black leather, apparentlyweighty, and very much used.