“How is your bag marked?” questioned Gif.
“G. A. W.,” answered Werner.
“Well, you can see for yourself that there is no such marking on any of these bags,” declared Jack. “There is my own. These two belong to Andy and Randy. This is Fred’s, and here is Gif’s and that one is Spouter’s.”
“Maybe they’ve got it hidden under the blankets, or something like that,” suggested Glutts.
“There are no other suitcases in this boxsled,” declared Gif flatly.
“We’ll take a look and make sure.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort, Gabe Werner!” and now, with flashing eyes, Gif raised his whip as if to bring it down over the bully’s head.
“Hold on, Gif! Don’t do anything like that,” advised Jack. “Let them look around the sled if they want to. Then they will know we’re telling the truth. If we go off without giving them a chance to look, they may complain to the authorities here and make a lot of trouble for us.”
“All right, then, go ahead and look,” answered Gif, leaping from the boxsled. “But don’t you harm any of our things, or you’ll hear from me.”
Jack flashed the light into the sled, and Werner and Glutts made an examination of the contents. Of course, they found no other baggage, and so drew back in disgust.
“I don’t understand it,” said Werner lamely. “I left that bag there in the station master’s care while I and the others went to get something to eat. Now my bag is gone.”
“Well, that is none of our affair,” answered Jack. “Come on, fellows, it’s getting late. Let’s be on the way.”
“I’ll get that bag back, or I’ll make the station master pay for it,” grumbled Gabe Werner, and then he and his cronies turned on their heels and walked back in the direction of the railroad station.
“Gee! somebody must have walked off with his bag while he was eating,” remarked Fred. “Rather tough luck if he had anything of real value in it.”
“Serves him right—for being so cross and cranky,” was Andy’s comment. But the bag had not been stolen. It had been simply misplaced, as was afterwards proven.
Once more the boys adjusted themselves on the boxsled, and then Gif took up the reins and spoke to the team. Off they started at a walk, but soon broke into a slow trot as the sled began to go down a long slope leading in the direction of Cedar Lodge.
The way was little more than a woods road, winding in and out among the trees. They had to mount several small hills, and on these the horses settled down to a very slow walk.
“I guess Jed Wallop was right about Mary and John not running away,” came from Randy. “I don’t think anything short of an earthquake could start ‘em into a gallop.”
“They are lumber-camp horses, used to drawing pretty heavy loads,” explained Gif. “They may not be very much on speed, but on the other hand you can depend on their pulling us out of any tight hole where fancy horses might get stuck.”
CHAPTER XII
AT THE FROZEN-UP SPRING
On and on went the boxsled carrying the Rovers and their chums, deeper and deeper into the woods. Occasionally the road was so narrow that they brushed the snow-laden bushes on one side or the other.
“Hi there, Gif, look out!” cried Randy presently. A bush had been turned aside by those ahead, and now it slipped back, covering Randy’s face with loose snow.
“I’m sorry, Randy,” returned Gif. “But we’ve got to take this road as it comes. You’ll have to watch out, just as the others are doing.”
There was a smoky lantern dangling from the front of the boxsled, but this gave little light. The moon was down beyond the trees, and only the diamond-like stars glittered overhead.
“How much further have we got to go?” questioned Jack presently, after they had passed a crossroads and kept to the right, as Jed Wallop had directed.
“I think we have covered about half the distance, Jack,” was the reply of the young driver. “Still, I’m not sure. You know a boxsled isn’t like an auto—it doesn’t carry a speedometer.”
“Gee! an auto would have been there and back two or three times since we started,” was Fred’s comment.
“Not in this snow,” came from Spouter. “I think you’d get stuck in some of these deep places.”
“They do use a few cars up here in the winter, but not many,” said Gif. “It’s too uncertain.”
To make the time pass more quickly, Jack started one of the old school songs, and the others joined him. Then they ended with the well-known Colby Hall cry:
“Who are we?Can’t you see?Colby Hall!Dum! Dum! Dum, dum, dum!Here we come with fife and drum!Colby! Colby! Colby Hall!”
“I wonder what the neighbors will think if they hear us,” remarked Randy.
“I don’t think there are any neighbors very close,” answered Gif. “There was a house some distance back, but I don’t know of any others between here and Cedar Lodge. The other places are beyond the point where we turn off to go down to the bungalow.”
They had now to make several sharp turns, and at these spots the road was unusually rough. One runner of the boxsled went up on some rocks, and for a moment it looked as if the turnout would upset.
“Look out there, Gif!”
“You’ll have us in the snow with the sled on top of us!”
“Git along there, Mary and John!” cried the young driver. “Git along!” and he cracked his whip, and soon the team had pulled the boxsled from the rocks, and then going became better.
“We ought to be coming to a signboard soon,” declared Gif a few minutes later. “I remember there used to be one on the road, pointing to a number of camps north of this place.”
In a few minutes they came to the spot he had mentioned, but to his disappointment there was no signboard to be seen.
“Someone must have taken it down, or else it fell of itself,” he remarked.
“Are you quite sure you’re on the right road?” questioned Andy.
“It would be fierce to have to turn back this time of night,” added his twin.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure this is the right road,” answered their chum. Nevertheless, his face showed a doubtful look. Not to find the signboard which had been a landmark in that vicinity for many years puzzled him.
A little later they came to where the road branched out in three directions, the road on the right being narrow and running directly into a thick patch of woods.
“Whoa!” cried Gif to the team, and then he looked around more puzzled than ever, and shook his head.
“What’s wrong now?” asked Jack.
“I guess I’m stumped,” was the slow reply. “I can’t remember this spot at all.”
“Oh, Gif, don’t tell us we’re on the wrong road after all!” exclaimed Andy.
“Jed Wallop told us to keep to the right,” announced Spouter. “We’ve been doing that, and we might as well do it now.”
“But that road doesn’t look as if it leads to anywhere,” declared Fred.
“It’s a mighty narrow road, too,” returned Gif. “We might get down in among the trees and be unable to turn around, and then what would we do?”
“Better stay here, Gif, while I walk ahead and investigate,” said Jack.
“Better take a gun along, in case you stir up something you don’t want to meet,” warned Fred.
“Not a bad idea,” and, reaching down into the boxsled, Jack brought out one of the weapons that had been placed there.
“If you see a moose shoot him on the spot!” cried Randy.
“What spot?” queried his twin gayly. “A spot on the end of his tail or the tip of his ear wouldn’t be of much account.”
“I don’t see how you can joke, Andy, when we’re lost away out here in the woods and it’s past midnight,” came ruefully from Fred. “I’d give as much as
a dollar to be at the Lodge and lying down in front of a roaring fire. I’m getting pretty cold.”
They were all cold, for since nightfall the thermometer had been going down steadily. More than this, the wind was rising, and this in the open places was anything but pleasant to the cadets.
“I’ll go with you, Jack,” announced Spouter, and he, too, armed himself with his gun, a double-barreled affair of which he was quite proud.
Holding his flashlight so that they might see where they were walking, Jack led the way, and Spouter came close behind. They walked a distance of several hundred feet, and here found that the road came to an end among some rocks which were now covered with ice.
“It’s a road to a spring, that’s all,” said Jack. “The water is frozen now, but I suppose in the summer time the lumbermen and the other folks around here occasionally travel in for a drink. We may as well go back.”
“Well, it’s a mighty good thing we didn’t drive in here. We might have had a job turning around on that rough ice,” answered Spouter.
The frozen-up spring was a beautiful sight, the water standing out in columns and waves as if made of milky glass. Behind the columns there was still a trickle of water.
To get a better view of the sight, Jack swept the rays of the flashlight first to one side and then to the other. As he did this he caught a glimpse of a pair of gleaming eyes from the brushwood and snow behind the spring. The eyes looked full of curiosity and fright.
“Look, look, Spouter!” he cried, and then dropped the flashlight into his overcoat pocket.
“What is it?”
“I just saw the eyes of some wild animal back there. See! There they are now!”
As Jack spoke he raised his gun and blazed away. This shot was followed by one from Spouter.
The reports were followed almost immediately by a snarl and a whining cry, and they heard some animal thrashing around wildly in the bushes behind the spring, sending the loose snow flying in all directions.
“We hit it, whatever it is,” announced Jack.
“What do you suppose it can be?” questioned Spouter quickly. “It wasn’t a deer, was it?”
“I don’t think so, Spouter. It was too low down for that. Maybe it was a fox, although it didn’t sound like it.”
“Perhaps there are brook mink around this spring.”
“Maybe.”
“Are you going back there to find out?” went on Spouter, for the sounds in the brushwood had now ceased.
“Sure, I’m going back there! You don’t suppose I’m going to let any game get away from us!”
“Be careful, Jack. That animal may be playing possum, you know, and may spring out at you.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll be on my guard,” answered Jack.
He had slipped another charge into his gun, and Spouter quickly did likewise. Then, with their weapons ready for use and with the flashlight held so that it cast its rays ahead, they cautiously moved around to one side of the frozen spring and made their way in the direction of the bushes and rocks in the rear.
“Hello there! what are you shooting at?” The cry came from where the pair had left the boxsled. It was Gif who was calling.
“We don’t know yet,” answered Jack.
“We saw a pair of eyes, and we shot at them,” added Spouter.
“Gee! what do you know about that?” exclaimed Fred. “Hunting before we even reach the Lodge!”
“Let’s go ahead and see what they struck,” came from Randy.
“That’s the talk!” added his twin.
Gif was willing, and in a moment more the four lads had scrambled down from the boxsled and were making their way along the road leading to the spring. By this time Jack and Spouter had advanced through the brushwood and over the rocks close to the spot where they had last seen the gleaming eyes. As they went on Jack imagined once or twice he saw something moving through the snow, but of this he was not certain.
“Here is where we hit it, whatever it was,” declared Spouter, when they reached the point directly behind the spring. “See how the snow is dug up?”
“Yes, and here are some drops of blood,” said Jack, as he turned the flashlight on the snow. “But whatever it was, it got away,” he added disappointedly.
“What have you got?” sang out Gif, for he and the others had come up on the opposite side of the spring.
“We haven’t got anything,” answered Spouter dolefully. “We hit something, but it got away from us.”
“It wasn’t a moose, was it?” queried Randy with great interest.
“No, I think it was a three-horned elephant,” replied Jack, who was not then in the best of humor. He hated to have the first thing he shot at get away from him.
“Well, this seems to be the end of this road,” remarked Gif, looking around.
“Yes, it only led down to this frozen-up spring,” answered Spouter.
“I move we go on,” said Fred. “I’m cold, and I’m sleepy too.”
“I think we’re all that way,” answered Gif. “Come on, you fellows. No use of remaining around here. If that animal got away it probably moved off quite a distance.”
“That would depend on how badly it was wounded,” answered Jack. “Just wait a minute, and I’ll see if I can’t find its trail.”
Aided by the flashlight, he looked around carefully, and presently made out some tracks in the snow leading in the direction of a nearby thicket. He moved to this, coming presently to several low-hanging trees.
“See anything?” questioned Fred impatiently.
“Not yet. But the trail is here as plain as can be.”
“Maybe those are only rabbit tracks,” remarked Randy.
“Or tracks of the animals that came down to the spring for a drink,” put in Gif.
Jack did not answer. He was flashing the light around carefully, inspecting all the trees and bushes in that vicinity. Suddenly the light was flashed upward, and as the rays ran along one of the branches of the tree directly in front of the youth there came a sudden snarl of rage and protest.
“It’s a wildcat!” ejaculated Spouter, whose eyes had also been following the rays of light. “A wildcat!”
“Yes, and it’s the animal we wounded,” answered Jack. “See how it is holding up one of its front paws.”
“Be careful!” sang out Gif, in alarm. “A wounded wildcat is no beast to play with.”
Scarcely had he uttered the words when the wildcat gave another snarl of rage. Then the tail of the beast began to quiver, and suddenly, with a cry, it leaped down from the tree, striking the ground directly in front of the surprised boys.
CHAPTER XIII
THE MEETING ON THE ROAD
That the wildcat was in a savage mood and prepared to fight to a finish, there could be no doubt. Evidently the wounded paw had made the beast more savage than usual, and hardly had it struck the ground than it tried to make a leap forward at Jack.
“Look out, Jack!”
“He means to claw you to death!”
Bang! went Spouter’s gun, but he did not dare to take too close an aim for fear of hitting Jack, and as a consequence the charge of shot merely damaged the wildcat’s tail.
It must not be thought that the oldest Rover was slow in moving. Had this been true, the wildcat would undoubtedly have fastened its claws and its teeth into the youth and done serious damage. As the animal came forward, the young captain leaped to one side and the wildcat landed in the snow, facing the others who had come up.
“Shoot him! Shoot him!” came from Fred excitedly.
“Plug him quick!” added Andy.
None of those who had followed Jack and Spouter were armed, so the fight rested entirely upon the shoulders of that pair. Circling around so as to avoid the others, Jack pulled the trigger and fired. The wildcat began flipping and
flopping on the snow, badly wounded. Then Spouter discharged his firearm once more, and after this the creature lay quiet where it dropped.
“Is—is he dead?” questioned Fred, who was the first to speak. The youngest Rover was very much excited, and with good cause.
“Wait! Don’t go forward!” ordered Jack, as he stepped back a few paces. “He may be playing possum. Anyway, we had better load our guns first,” he added to Spouter.
This advice to load immediately after discharging a weapon was one which had been well drilled into the cadets, and so now the pair lost no time in putting new charges into their weapons. Then they approached with caution, and Jack turned the wildcat over with the barrel of the gun, keeping his hand meanwhile on the trigger ready for action.
But the beast was quite dead, the charges from the two guns having gone completely through its body.
“What are you going to do with the carcass?” questioned Randy, after all had made an inspection.
“Might as well leave it here,” declared Fred. “It isn’t good for anything. Even the skin is all torn from the shot.”
“No, we might as well take it along. We can hang it on the back of the boxsled,” said Gif. “Perhaps we can use the meat to trap some other wild animals.”
A strap which one of the boys happened to carry was fastened around the neck of the wildcat, and then they carried it from the spring to where they had left the boxsled. The excitement for the time being had caused all of the cadets to forget how late it was and how cold and windy it was growing. But now, when they were once more ready to drive off, several of them began to shiver.
“It’s going to be mighty cold before morning,” announced Randy.
“Yes, and I wish we were at that bungalow in front of a good log fire,” added Andy.
“Now that we’ve discovered that wasn’t the road, which way do you propose to go, Gif?” questioned Jack.
“We won’t count that as a road, and we’ll take the other one on the right,” was the reply. “I don’t know of anything else to do,” Gif added, somewhat helplessly.
None of the others could give advice, for the reason that this territory was entirely new to them. Even Spouter, who had visited the woods a number of times, had never been in that vicinity.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 392