About the only pupil who did not relish going into camp was William Philander Tubbs.
“It will be beastly to live out in the open, on the ground,” said Tubbs. “Supposing it should rain? Why, we’ll all get wet!”
“Never mind, that will make you grow, Tubby,” said Sam.
“Sam Rover, how often must I tell you not to address me as—ah—Tubby. My full name is—”
“Oh, I know that—William Longfellow Washington Hezekiah Philander Salamander Tubbs. But you can’t expect me to say that every time, can you?” questioned Sam innocently.
“Mine cracious! vos dot his hull name?” burst in Hans Mueller. “It’s apout as long as a freight drain, ain’t it, alretty!”
“No, my name is—”
“Perhaps I forgot one or two syllables,” interrupted Sam. “Very sorry, I’m sure.”
“I said my name—”
“I know you said it, half a dozen times, Billy. But you see life is so very short, and time so precious—”
“I meant to say—”
“Sorry, Billy, but I can’t wait to hear it all,” cried Sam, and ran away.
“He is—er—extremely rude,” murmured Tubbs.
“Put dot’s a long name, ain’t it?” said Hans, “I couldn’t remember dot no more as I can remember der names of all der kings py England alretty.”
“Oh, I am disgusted!” sighed William Philander, and started to walk away.
“Vot is you disgusted apout, Mr. Dubbs?”
“Because they won’t call me by my proper name.”
“Do da call you by your imbrober name?” asked Hans innocently.
“Eh?”
“I said, do da call you py your imbrober name?” repeated the German youth.
“Oh, don’t talk to me,” howled Tubbs, and walked away more disconcerted than ever.
“Dot fellow vas so sharp like a pox of bebber, ain’t it?” sighed Hans to himself.
The preparations for the annual encampment went forward rapidly. All of the outfit was inspected with care and found to be in good order. Each cadet was provided with a blanket, and a knapsack full of extra underclothing and other necessary things. The captain had already engaged three big wagons to carry the tents, poles, and cooking utensils, including several camp stoves, and from another quarter cots were to be sent to the camp direct, so that the cadets would not be compelled to lie upon the ground.
“Now, I guess everything is ready,” said Dick; late Saturday evening.
Sunday was a day of rest for the most part. In the morning the majority of the students marched to church under the directions of the captain and Mr. Strong, and part of the afternoon was spent in writing letters to the folks at home. “Lights out,” sounded half an hour earlier than usual, so that the cadets might get a good sleep before starting out on the two days’ march.
CHAPTER XV
ON THE MARCH TO CAMP
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
The cadets got their first taste of the annual encampment early in the morning, when, instead of hearing the familiar bell, they were awakened by the rolling of the drum.
“Time to get up, everybody!” cried Sam, flinging the covers from him. “It won’t do to be late this morning.”
“That is true, Private Rover,” came solemnly from Dick. “I will fine any soldier of my command who is behind time.”
“Thank you, Captain Rover, I’ll remember that,” came from one of the other cadets. “And how is Lieutenant Rover this morning”?
“Fine as silk,” came from Tom, who was already splashing in the cold water of his washbowl. “I’ll bet a big red apple against a turnip that I’m down first,” and he began to don his uniform with remarkable rapidity.
All of the students were soon below, and then the various companies marched into the messroom for their last breakfast at the Hall for some time to come.
“I see the wagons have already left,” said Sam.
“Yes, the drivers are to get the camp in readiness for to-night,” answered his big brother.
Knowing that they had a long march before them, the majority of the cadets ate a hearty breakfast. Mrs. Green, the housekeeper, was sorry to have them leave, and had prepared an unusually fine repast.
“Mrs. Green is just all right,” declared Tom. “I move we give her a vote of thanks.” And this was later on done, much to the old lady’s delight.
It was a perfect day. The sun shone brightly, and there was just enough breeze to keep the atmosphere fresh and exhilarating. Captain Putnam was to accompany the students on horseback, and the teachers had already gone off with the wagons.
“Battalion, attention!” shouted Major Larry Colby, when the cadets were assembled on the parade ground. And the order was immediately obeyed.
“Shoulder arms!” was the next order given, and up went every gun in unison. The movement was so pretty that the spectators who had gathered to see the boys march off clapped their hands in approval.
“Forward—march!” came next, and the drums and fifes struck up, and away went the cadets, company front, toward the road.
“By column of fours!” was the next command, and Captain Dick Rover turned to his company.
“By column of fours!” he repeated, and Company A broke up into four abreast and turned into the road leading off in the direction of Pine Island. The other companies also broke up, and in a minute more the cadets were really and truly on the march for the camp.
The drums and fifes sounded well on that bracing morning air, and quite a crowd of boys and not a few girls followed the students over the first of the hills back of Putnam Hall. But here the crowd dropped gradually away, until the young soldiers had the country road practically to themselves.
For a full mile the cadets were made to keep in step. Then came the order, “Route step!” and they moved forward as pleased them, keeping together, however, by companies. The route step is given that one may take the step that is most natural to him, be it longer or shorter than the regulation step.
Farms were rather scattered in that neighborhood, but occasionally they passed country homes, when all the folks would rush forth to learn what the drumming and fifing meant.
“They are the Putnam Hall cadets,” said one farm woman. “How neat they look and how nicely they march!”
“Puts me in mind o’ war times, Mirandy,” said her husband. “Don’t you remember how the boys marched away in them days”?
“Indeed I do, Ira,” answered the woman. “But that was real, while this is only for fun.”
“Well, I reckon some o’ those lads would make putty good soldiers, were they put to it. They handle their guns like veterans.”
The cadets marched until ten o’clock and then stopped for a brief rest near a fine hillside spring, where all procured a drink. Then they moved forward again until noon, when they reached a small village where dinner already awaited them.
“We have covered twelve miles,” said Captain Putnam. “Eight more, and the day’s march will be over.”
The cadets were glad enough to eat their dinner and take it easy on the porch of the old country hotel at which they had stopped.
“Imagine us marching off to war,” observed Sam. “How would you like it, Tom”?
“Oh, I don’t think I would complain,” was the answer. “Anything for a bit of excitement.”
The day’s march was completed long before sundown, and the battalion came to a halt in an open field through which flowed a shaded brook.
The tents were at hand and the students lost no time in putting up the shelters.
Food was supplied for the occasion by a farmer living near, for it was not deemed advisable to unload the cook stoves and build the necessary fires.
The farmer gave the students permission to visit his apple orchard, and this th
e majority did, returning to the temporary camp with their pockets fairly bulging with apples.
The weather remained clear and warm, so the first night in the open proved very agreeable. A camp-fire was lit just for the look of things, and around this the cadets gathered, telling stories and singing songs until it was time to turn in.
Sleeping in a tent just suited the Rover boys and none of them awoke until sunrise. Soon the whole camp was astir, and each cadet took a good washing up at the brook. Breakfast was supplied by the farmer, and by nine o’clock the column was once again in motion on its way to Pine Island.
“Dot sleeping out in der air vos a funny dings,” said Hans Mueller to Sam. “I vake up der middle of der night in und find a pig mouskeeter mine toe on alretty!”
“Be thankful that it wasn’t something worse, Hans,” said Sam. “What would you do if you woke up and saw a big black bear standing beside your cot”?
“I dink I cofer mine head kvick, Sammy.”
“But the bear might chew the cover up.”
“Den I vos rund for mine life und holler like sixty!”
“Well, you want to keep your eyes open for bears,” added Sam, thinking he scented fun ahead.
“How vos I going to keep mine eyes oben of I go to sleep, tell me dot”?
“You’ll have to figure that out yourself, Hansy, old boy;” and here the talk had to come to an end.
By the middle of the afternoon they came in sight of Bass Lake, a beautiful sheet of water about two miles and a half long by nearly half a mile wide. Close to the south shore lay Pine Island, so called because it was covered in spots with tall pine trees. Between the main shore and Pine Island were two smaller islands, and there were low wooden bridges from one to the other, connecting the big island with the mainland.
The wagons had already gone over the bridges to the spot selected for the camp, and now the battalion marched across, from island to island, under low arching trees and over ground covered with fallen leaves and moss.
“What a grand spot for a camp!”
It was Dick who uttered the words when the final halt was made. His words were true, and his fellow students agreed with him that Captain Putnam could not have made a better selection.
There was an open space nearly an acre in extent, covered with short grass and sloping slightly toward the lake. At the water’s edge was a small wooden dock, where the boats were tied up, and next to this a sandy strip excellent for bathing purposes. Back of the open space was a fine grove of trees, to which the students could retire when the sun became too hot for them. More trees lined the north shore, some hanging out far over the water, making ideal spots for reading or fishing. There were beautiful walks through the woods, and in the center of the island was a rocky hill from the top of which one could obtain a view of the country for several miles around.
Captain Putnam insisted upon it that the camp be laid out in true military fashion, and two students who knew a little about civil engineering put down the necessary stakes. There was a street for each company, with a tent for the captain and his lieutenants at the head. Each tent was of the wall pattern and large enough to accommodate four soldiers. That the flooring of the tent might be kept dry around each a trench was dug, by which the water could run off when it rained. On the bottom pine boughs were strewn, giving a delicious smell to the interior.
“This smell of pine is very good for a cold in the head,” said Major Larry to Dick. “My sister always uses a pillow filled with pine needles for that purpose.”
The students worked hard that evening getting their tents ready for occupancy and as a consequence all were glad to retire when the proper time came. Captain Putnam had expected that there would be some skylarking, but he was mistaken. That was to come later—when the lads felt more rested.
CHAPTER XVI
THE FIRST DAY ON PINE ISLAND
“Can anybody tell me where the—er—looking glass is”?
It was William Philander Tubbs who asked the question. He stood in the middle of one of the tents, gazing helplessly about him.
“Beastly way to live, really now it is,” he continued. “How is a fellow to arrange his toilet without a glass”?
“Better run down to the lake and look into the water,” suggested Sam, who occupied a cot in the tent.
“Look into the water? Beastly!” murmured Tubbs. “Really now, this isn’t like home, is it”? he continued.
“It suits me well enough,” went on Sam, leaping up and beginning to dress. “You’ll get used to it before long.”
“Never, my dear boy, never!”
As Tubbs spoke he began to put on his coat, but failed to get either of his hands further than the elbows of the sleeves.
“What’s the matter with this coat”? he ejaculated. “Well, I declare!”
“What’s up now”? asked another cadet.
“Somebody has gone and sewed up the sleeves.”
There was a roar of laughter at this.
“Mustn’t mind a little thing like that,” said Sam, and he sat down on the edge of his cot to put on his shoes. “Great Scott, what’s this”?
He had forced his foot into one shoe and now withdrew it covered with soft soap.
“Haw! haw!” roared Tubbs. “Rather fancy the laugh is on you now, Rover.”
“That’s a fact,” muttered Sam, and began to clean out the shoe as quickly as he could.
Several other small jokes had been played, showing that the cadets were “tuning up,” as Major Larry expressed it.
“I guess I’ll have my hands full before the week is out,” he said to Dick, in private. “Keeping order will be no fool of a job.”
“Well, you must remember that you liked to have your fling too, when you were a private, major,” answered the captain of Company A.
The cooking detail were already preparing breakfast and the aroma of hot coffee floated throughout the camp. Immediately after roll-call breakfast was served, of fruit, fish, eggs, bread, and coffee, and the cadets pitched in with a will.
“Gives one an appetite to live out in the open,” said Lieutenant Tom.
“As if you didn’t carry your appetite with you wherever you go,” grinned Sam.
“Silence, Private Rover, or I’ll fine you half a day’s pay,” flung back Tom with a similar grin.
“My, but we are some pumpkins,” went on Sam, squaring his shoulders. “Wonder how soon we’ll get to be a general.”
“Perhaps at the next general election,” suggested George Granbury.
“Lieutenant Granbury is fined a peanut for punning,” said Tom severely. “Don’t do it again and the fine will be remitted.”
“That’s a fine way to do,” murmured George, and then Sam shied a tin plate at him.
As soon as the meal was over there was a drill lasting half an hour, and then the cadets were permitted to do as they pleased until noon. Some went boating, some fishing, while others took a swim, or simply “knocked around” as Sam expressed it.
“I shouldn’t mind a swim,” said Tom. “Who will go in with me”?
A dozen cadets were willing, including Dick, Larry, and Fred Garrison. As it was off time, Larry, even though major, did not feel it necessary to “stand on his dignity.”
“I’m just going to be as I’ve always been,” he told the others. “If I can’t be that, I don’t want to be major.”
Several tents had been erected close to the water’s edge, where the cadets might undress and don their bathing suits. Tom was the first ready, and with a run he plunged into the lake head-first.
“It’s glorious!” he shouted, as he came up and shook the water from his head. “Worth a dollar a minute. Come on in!” And they came, one after another, without loss of more time. The water was slightly cool, but the students at Putnam Hall were required to take cold baths weekly, so they d
id not mind the temperature. Laughing and shouting gleefully they dove around in all directions, and then Tom suggested a race.
“Just the thing!” said another cadet. “Where shall we race to”?
“Over to yonder rock and back,” answered Tom. “Line up, everybody. A stale biscuit to the winner and a sour cream puff for the last man. All ready”?
There was a pause.
“Start!” yelled Tom, and made a wild splash that sent the water flying in all directions.
“A race! A race!” shouted one of the students on the shore, and his cry soon brought a score or more of the others to the spot.
“I think Tom Rover will win that race.”
“I’ll bet on Major Larry.”
“Fred Garrison is ahead. He’s the best swimmer in the school.”
“He can’t swim as well as Dick Rover.”
“I’ll bet Jackson wins,” came from Lew Flapp, who was in the crowd on the beach. Jackson, it will be remembered, was one of his particular cronies.
“Jackson can’t swim against Dick Rover,” came from Songbird Powell, who had hardly spoken to Flapp since the row at Mike Sherry’s resort.
“I’ll bet you a dollar he beats Rover,” replied the tall boy, in a low tone.
“I don’t bet, Flapp.”
“You’re afraid to bet,” sneered the tall boy.
This statement angered Powell and he quickly dove into his pocket and pulled out the sum mentioned.
“This is the time you lose, Flapp,” he said quietly.
Another student was made stakeholder and each boy passed over his money.
By this time the race was well underway. Tom was still in the lead, but Jackson was close behind him, with Larry Colby third and Dick fourth.
“Go it, Tom, you are sure to win!” shouted one of his friends.
“Don’t know about that,” Tom returned pantingly. “Guess I started too hard!” And soon he began to drop behind.
“Jackson is ahead!” was the next cry.
“Major Colby is a close second!”
“That is true, but Dick Rover is crawling up!”
So the cries went on until the big rock that was the turning point was gained.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 114