Four in Camp: A Story of Summer Adventures in the New Hampshire Woods

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XI

  TELLS HOW THE FOUR PLANNED AN EXCURSION, AND HOW DAN AND NELSON PLAYEDHARES, MADE A DISCOVERY, AND HAD A FRIGHT

  “I think it’s a deuce of a note that I’m going to get left on the longtrip!” said Dan aggrievedly.

  They were sitting, the Four, in front of the fireplace in Birch Hall.Before them a couple of giant logs were crackling merrily. Outside itwas raining steadily, and through the open door and windows the breezeswept in damp, and redolent of wet earth and vegetation. Now and thena rain-drop found its way down the big chimney and fell hissing intothe fire. Siesta was over with, and the weather made outdoor pursuitsuncomfortable, if not impossible. Besides the Four, the room held adozen or so other lads, three of whom--juniors these--were busilyengaged in filling a soap-box with torn paper for the hare-and-houndschase scheduled for the morrow.

  “Well, so am I,” said Nelson. “I’ve got to get back home by the firstof September myself. We’re going to the St. Louis Fair about the first.”

  “Wish _I_ was,” Dan responded gloomily. “I’ve got to put in a couple ofweeks with the oculist. He’s going to do something to my eyes, and I’llhave to mope around for about a week with a bandage over ’em.”

  “Hard luck,” said Bob. “And I wish you fellows were going on the tripwith us, I certainly do. It’s the finest sort of fun. Can’t you stay,Nel? What do you care about their old Exposition?--a lot of machineryand fool pictures, and such truck!”

  “I’ve got to go. Anyhow, I want to see it; I didn’t get to the one inBuffalo. I saw the Chicago Fair, though. That was swell!”

  “You bet it was!” said Tom, his patriotism to the fore. “There hasn’tbeen one to come up to that yet, and there won’t be for a long oldwhile!”

  “Oh, forget it,” answered Dan, “you and your old Chicago! To hear yougo on, a fellow’d think Chicago was the only place in the world!” Danwas from New York, and pretended a deep scorn for the Windy City.

  “That’s all right,” said Tom. “But you’ve never had anything like ourfair in your tu-tu-tu-town!”

  “Don’t want one,” answered Dan calmly. “You just lost a lot of money onit.”

  “Mu-mu-maybe we du-du-du-did,” said Tom warmly. “Bu-bu-but mu-mu-money’snot the only th-th-th-thing. We sh-sh-showed you fu-fu-folks what wecu-cu-could--could do, by gum!”

  “Cut it out now!” laughed Nelson. “Tommy’s getting excited, andexcitement isn’t good for him. Besides, he wants to save his breath forthe chase to-morrow. He says he’s going to get home before you and Ido, Dan.”

  Dan and Bob found the idea amusing.

  “Another case of the hare and the tortoise,” suggested Bob. “You andDan will have to be careful, and not fall asleep.”

  “If it keeps on raining we won’t have a chance to do much sleeping, Itell you,” answered Nelson. “The ground will be as soft and slippery asanything!”

  “Hares don’t mind soft ground,” said Tom.

  “This hare does,” replied Dan.

  “So does this one,” Nelson added.

  “I guess Tommy wants to lose flesh,” said Bob. “There’s nothing like agood hard run to remove superfluous avoirdupois.”

  “Oh, isn’t he good?” cried Tommy. “Did you hear him say that?”

  “That’ll do for you, Bob,” said Dan.

  Bob made an unsuccessful attempt to pull Dan’s stool from under him,and then gave his attention to the workers.

  “Come now, ‘Babe,’ this isn’t a funeral, you know. You’ll have to tearpaper faster than that, or you won’t have enough to trail from here tothe dining-hall. Say, Kid Rooke, you’ve got a wrong idea of the gameof shovelboard; it isn’t necessary to throw those weights on the floor_every_ time! Besides, you’re making a beastly lot of noise.”

  “All right, Bobby,” was the disrespectful reply. “Bobby” promptly threwa stick of kindling-wood with admirable precision, and Rooke playedbadly for some time in consequence of nursing a lame arm.

  “Say, Bob, why couldn’t we get off on a little trip of our own?” askedDan. “Don’t you think Clint would let us, seeing we’re not going to behere for the regular one?”

  “Maybe he might,” answered Bob. “Last year he let six of the bigfellows go off on a two days’ canoe trip.”

  “Just the thing!” said Dan. “We’ll take your canoe and Carter’s--he’lllet us have it, all right--and we four’ll go. What do you say, fellows?”

  “Great scheme!” said Nelson.

  “Perfectly swell!” seconded Tom.

  “Maybe, though, he wouldn’t let Tommy and me go,” objected Bob,“because we’ll be here for the long trip.”

  “Well, don’t go on the long trip, then,” suggested Nelson. “Come to‘St. Louis, Louis’ with me.”

  “By ginger! I’d like to, all right. I’ll see what Clint says. If hemakes that objection, I’ll tell him I’m thinking of cutting the longtrip out this year; and maybe my folks would let me go to the fair.”

  “Still, there’s Tommy; what about him?” asked Dan.

  “What do you think I care about the trip, if you fellows aren’tgu-gu-gu-going?”

  “Noble youth!” said Bob. “Who’ll ask Clint?” Silence ensued.

  “Whoever asks him,” said Dan presently, “had better wait until he’ssort of forgotten about that painting affair.”

  “Maybe,” answered Bob, “but I don’t believe he holds that against us;Clint isn’t that sort. When a thing’s done with, it’s done with forhim. I don’t mind asking. You leave it to me, and I’ll wait until Ifind him feeling his best.”

  “Good for you, old man!” said Dan heartily. “I always said you were thebravest of the lot.”

  “Brave nothing!” scoffed Tom. “He thinks he has a winning smile. Bob’sa regular fusser at home, I’ll bet!”

  “Hey!” exclaimed Nelson, arising and stretching his arms inaccompaniment to a mighty yawn, “who’s going to soak?”

  “I am,” said Bob; and the other two expressed themselves similarly.“Babe” came up, kicking his box before him.

  “Isn’t that enough, Bob?” he asked pathetically.

  “Sure, ‘Babe,’ that’s enough. Come on and soak. Ho, for ‘Babe’s’ brinyocean!”

  The next day dinner was a half hour earlier, and promptly at the strokeof two Nelson and Dan left Spruce Hall and trotted down the road to thevillage, each bearing a bag of “scent” in the shape of torn paper, andeach wearing the scantiest costume modesty would permit. The houndswere to start twelve minutes later, and the trail was to be laid for adistance of about three miles and return, at least half the trail to beover roads. Nelson thought twelve minutes rather scant time allowance,but Dan, who fancied himself a bit as a cross-country runner, was quitesatisfied. Almost every fellow in camp was going to have a try at thechase, although it was a foregone conclusion that many of them woulddrop out the first mile. Mr. Verder was leader of the hounds, and hewas the only member of the pursuit that Dan feared.

  Once out of sight of the camp, and having reached the beginning ofthe slight slope that led down to the foot of the lake, the hareslet themselves out. It was a cloudy, threatening day, somewhat chillfor the month of August, and the rain, which had fallen continuallyfrom Monday morning until some time last night, had left the groundsoft, and in some places decidedly slippery. Once or twice during theforenoon there had been tiny showers, and there was every indication ofmore to follow before night. The distance to the village of Crescent,Dan’s estimate on the day of his enforced return to camp by way of theroad notwithstanding, was but a trifle over the mile, and they madeit in short order, and passed over the bridge and by the post-office,running well, having got their second breaths. They followed the roadaround to where Dan and Bob had cut across the meadow when they hadmade their trip to the base of the cliff. There they climbed the fenceand struck across the field under the cliff, exchanging smiles as theycaught fleeting glimpses of the inscription on the rocks, and swungaround to the right on the farther s
ide of Humpback Mountain. Theirplan was to keep along the lower slope of the mountain, return to theroad at the farther end of Hipp’s Pond, and come back by the highwayto some spot near the village, where they were to ford the river andreach the road to camp near the forks. Once in the forest their goingwas necessarily slower. It was slightly up-hill, and the wet leavesmade anything beyond an easy trot impossible. They lost nearly a minuteon one occasion, when Nelson tripped on a log which he had tried tohurdle and came down sprawling, emptying most of the contents of thebag he carried. The paper had to be picked up before they could go on,since already they had begun to wonder whether the scent would holdout. Half-way along the side of the mountain it suddenly grew dark, andthe tree-tops began to sway in quick gusts of wind.

  “By Jove,” panted Dan, “I’ll bet we’re in for a wetting!”

  “Well, I haven’t got anything on that will spoil,” laughed Nelson.

  And then a few big drops pattered down on the leaves.

  “Coming!” shouted Dan.

  And it came!

  It was a veritable torrent that lashed aside the leaves and pelted theboys with great hissing drops. For a moment they stumbled on throughthe darkness. Then there was a blinding flash of white light, and acrash of thunder seemed to shake the mountain from top to bottom. Asthough by mutual consent, they dived beneath a clump of underbrush andhuddled up out of the worst of the storm.

  “Gee!” said Dan, “that scared me.”

  “Me too,” answered Nelson. “It was kind of sudden.”

  “I should say so! I don’t suppose there’s much use in our staying here,though. We can’t get much wetter by going on.”

  “And there isn’t much use in going on,” answered Nelson. “I’ll bet theothers have given up the chase by this time. Besides, our paper’s aboutsoaked through, I guess. I vote we hike up over the mountain and gethome.”

  “Seems to me we’d better go back the way we came.”

  “It will be lots nearer if we strike up hill here. It’ll be hard goinguntil we reach the top, but easy going down the other side. We oughtto strike the road about half-way between the pond and the village.Perhaps we’ll find a place where we can get out of the wet. Anyhow,there’s no use staying here. I’m getting wetter and wetter everyminute, and there’s a regular cascade running down my back. Here, let’sempty out this fool paper and stuff the bags in our pockets.”

  “All right,” answered Nelson; and the paper chase came to anignominious finish then and there.

  It was tough work climbing that slope in the face of a blindingtorrent, but they struggled upward, slipping and stumbling andpanting. The lightning had become almost continuous, and the thunderdid its part with might and main. What with the darkness of the skyand the gloom of the forest, there was very little light to go by;and as the rain forced them to close their eyes half the time, theywere continually butting into trees, tangling themselves up in theundergrowth or stumbling over dead branches.

  “This is a deuce of a note!” grumbled Dan as he picked himself up forthe fifth or sixth time, and tried to dry his wet hands on his wettertrousers. “I’d give a dollar for an umbrella!”

  “Or a tent,” sputtered Nelson. “I’m mighty nigh drowned and-- Hello!Look yonder!”

  Dan looked, and the next instant they were floundering toward shelter.What Nelson had seen was an old log house. It wasn’t in the best ofrepair, for the roof had fallen in at one end and the door had longsince disappeared. But it was a case of any port in a storm, and when,breathless and dripping, they reached it, they found that it affordedample protection. It was about twelve feet long by eight feet wide,with a door at one end, and a tiny opening at the other that hadprobably served in its day as a window. It was unfloored, but, savenear the doorway and at the farther end where the roof had falleninward, it was quite dry. It was as dark as pitch in there save when aflash of lightning momentarily illumined it.

  “Gee,” sighed Dan, “this is great!”

  “Swell!” murmured Nelson, with a shiver. “But I wish we had a fire.”

  “Got any matches?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good boy! Let’s see if we can’t find something that’ll burn.”

  Carefully they felt their way toward the back of the cabin, their eyesgradually becoming accustomed to the gloom. Suddenly Dan, who wasslightly in the lead, gave a cry of fear.

  “Look!” he cried.

  “Look!” he cried.]

  At the same instant there was a glare of lightning, and Nelson, peeringfearsomely ahead, saw a sight that sent an icy chill down his back.

  Almost at their feet stretched a pile of bones that glared white andgruesome in the uncanny light.