Part 2

Ben laughed so heartily that the boys began to feel somewhat ashamed for having told him anything about it. Then he explained it to them.

“Why, those are little flying squirrels, the prettiest little fellows you ever saw. I’ll show them to you to-morrow. They couldn’t harm a baby. However, you can take that lower bunk opposite us, and they won’t bother you any more to-night.”

Neither of the boys was a coward, however; and, now that they knew what had disturbed them, they climbed manfully back to their bunk and pulled the blankets over their heads, determined to pay no more attention to their strange bed-fellows.

“Say, Tom, those lads are all right,” said Ben, addressing the blanketed figure beside him.

“Looks like they’d make good,” was the sleepy reply.

II A WILD RIDE

With the first gleam of daylight Ben was astir cooking breakfast. Awakened by the noise, the boys dressed and jumped from the bunk to join him.

“Listen to that,” he cried, as a weird, trembling laugh sounded from the water. “That’s a loon; and if you fellows will sneak down to the shore of the lake you’ll get a peep at him.”

The boys ran outside and made their way quietly down the trail toward the lake, which they could see shimmering brightly between the tree-trunks.

The call was repeated, and, reaching a group of white birches growing at the edge of the water, they parted the branches and looked eagerly out. A great white mist was curling up from the water, and for some time they could see nothing more. Then George pointed excitedly out toward the center of the lake, and, following the direction with his eyes, Ed saw a large, dark bird with a white circle about its neck swimming leisurely along. Every few minutes it uttered a wild, tremulous laugh, and the lads endeavored to imitate it without success. They watched the loon while it swam about and dove beneath the water, until it finally disappeared from view.

Then they sat on a moss-grown log and looked across the great blue expanse of water to the opposite wooded shore, which rose to form a pine-topped mountain. They saw the sun rise over this mountain in golden splendor, and shed its rays on lake and forest. A big fish jumped into the air and returned to the water with a noisy splash. They instantly nudged each other in delightful anticipation of the sport in store for them with rod and reel.

“Oh, look, look!” cried George; and he pointed to a small brown animal swimming along near the shore. Only its head and part of its neck showed above the water, and its mouth was full of green leaves.

“It’s a rat!” declared Ed, seizing a stone and hurling it at the unknown creature, which promptly dove beneath the water.

When it reappeared some distance away, George took several ineffectual shots at it; but each time it dove before the stone reached it, and finally drew out of range unharmed. Disgusted with their marksmanship, the boys hastened to the cabin, where they found breakfast ready.

They asked Ben about the little brown animal they had seen, and he told them it was a muskrat. He said he would some day show them its wonderful houses, and told how it lived and traveled long distances under the ice in winter.

Breakfast was soon over, and the dishes washed and put away. As the owner of the team was anxious to get started on the long journey to his cabin, Ben and the boys went outside to help him hitch up. The task was quickly accomplished, and, wishing them many pleasant experiences in the woods, he bade the boys good-by, spoke to the faithful team of ponies, and was soon lost to view.

Returning to the cabin, the lads went to work willingly under the direction of Ben, and unpacked and stowed away their many belongings. The guide examined their rifles and shotguns, and pronounced them satisfactory. The heavy boots and waterproof moccasins which they had brought for winter wear also met his approval, and he promised they would have much need of them later on.

When everything had been properly stowed away, he bade them bring their shotguns, and led the way to the lake. Walking into some bushes near by, he dragged forth a canvas canoe and launched it. Placing Ed in the bow and George amidships, the guide took his place in the stern and paddled swiftly up the lake.

He kept well in toward the shore, and explained that there was more to be seen there than on the open water farther out. Not a sound was made, so easily did the canoe skim along. Ben cautioned them that if they used their eyes instead of their tongues they might see something worth while. Consequently, they sat very quiet, watching for something to happen.

All at once the bow of the canoe turned toward the middle of the lake, and the little craft commenced to leap through the water in great forward bounds.

“There he goes!” cried Ben. “Now for some fun.”

The boys looked out on the lake and saw the head and antlers of a deer, which was swimming desperately to reach the other shore. He had already spied them, and was doing his best to escape. Ben sent the canoe racing along, and the excited lads saw that they were rapidly gaining. They shouted aloud in the excitement of the chase, and then began to wonder what might happen when they drew alongside.

“Shall we shoot him?” inquired George, eagerly.

“Don’t you dare!” thundered Ben, between paddle-strokes. “No one but a ‘tenderfoot’ or a ‘pot-hunter’ would shoot a deer in the water. And never try to kill a deer with anything but a rifle. We’ll just have some fun with him and let him go.”

They felt rather disappointed at losing such a chance. They did not quite know what a “tenderfoot” or a “pot-hunter” might be, but were sure neither was a pattern for them.

Meanwhile they had approached to within a few yards of the buck. They could hear his hoarse, quick breathing and see the big, brown eyes turned toward them in fear as they drew close up beside him. The deer was doing all in its power to evade capture. But Ben was an expert with the paddle, and, twist and turn as it would, the frightened creature found the pursuing canoe always beside it. The boys, thoroughly carried away by the sport, reached forth to touch it on the neck. Instantly a change came over the hunted animal. An angry light of battle shone in its eyes, and even as Ben called a warning it half raised itself from the water and struck a wicked blow at the frail canoe with its sharp-pointed forefeet.

In jumping back from the sudden attack, the boys overturned the canoe and were thrown out. Ed and Ben fell into the water, but George landed squarely astride the back of the frightened buck. He had sufficient presence of mind to grasp the antlers and hang on. And then began a ride the like of which few if any boys have ever experienced!

The deer, feeling the weight of the lad on its back, threw itself forward in a series of wild leaps half out of water. George gripped the wet body with his knees and hung grimly to the rough horns. He had no desire to fall off into the deep water through which the animal was taking him in its mad flight to the opposite side of the lake.

Ben had meantime boosted Ed to the top of the overturned canoe, and was swimming with it toward the shore they had just left. Both of them were yelling encouragement to the alarmed boy racing through the water on the back of the deer.

The buck, unable to rid himself of his unwelcome rider, began to twist and turn his lithe body in an effort to throw him off. Then what the guide had dreaded happened. The buck dove beneath the water and took George with it!

Ed gave a startled cry when he saw his friend disappear from sight beneath the surface, and poor Ben groaned audibly. In breathless silence they watched for what seemed an eternity for the buck and its rider to reappear.

When the deer plunged under the water George instinctively held his breath and shut his eyes, as he was accustomed to do when ducked in the school swimming-tank by mischievous school-mates. He went much deeper this time, however, and the water went up his nostrils and roared in his ears. He gripped the frenzied animal beneath him more tightly. He could hear it gasping and choking down there under the water, and it seemed as though he, too, must soon open his mouth and free his bursting lungs. He could hold his breath but a moment longer. Then, just as he gave an involuntary gasp for air, his head shot above the water, and, coughing and snorting, the buck once more swam rapidly toward the land.

Ed and Ben, who had reached shallow water, yelled with delight when they saw their comrade reappear far out on the lake. George was too full of water to reply to their shouts and cheers. It was all he could do to keep his hold on that slippery wet back.

The buck seemed to realize that it could not lose its rider in deep water, and it swam strongly and steadily for the shore, now but a short distance away. From the heaving of its sides and its short, rasping gasps, George knew it was fairly well spent. As for himself, he had regained his wind and some of his confidence, and he determined to hold on until he reached land.

At last the deer found footing and jumped forward into water to its knees. Then it began a series of bounds and bucks which sent George soaring through space to land on his back in a foot or more of water. For a moment the buck stood looking at him, and he feared it was going to charge. But, to his relief, it uttered a loud snort and dashed up the bank and disappeared in the forest. Despite his wild ride, George was unhurt; and, scrambling to his feet, he waded ashore and sat down.

Ed and the guide, having turned the water out of the canoe, paddled across the lake to get him.

“Well, you certainly had a ride and a half,” laughed Ben, when they were within speaking distance. “You’re not hurt any, are you?”

“No, indeed,” George assured them, rising. “Say, Ed, it’s your turn next.”

But Ed’s answer was, “Not for mine!”

They entered the canoe, and Ben paddled quickly across the lake to the other shore, where they alighted and ran to the cabin to change to dry clothing.

While they were drying the dishes after dinner, Ben touched them lightly on the arm, and, cautioning them to be still, pointed overhead toward the cross-poles of the cabin. The boys heard the scratching that had alarmed them the night previous. Watching closely, they saw a pretty little animal peering inquisitively down at them with big black eyes. It was white underneath and soft-brown above. Ben said it was a flying squirrel. He promised, if they would watch at twilight, they would see the dainty creatures go sailing through the air. Thoroughly interested, the lads decided to look at the proper time.

“Ah-oonk, ah-oonk!”

The sound came from above, and Ben ran outside, followed by the boys. Looking up to where he pointed, they saw a V-shaped flock of large birds flying rapidly toward the lake. The guide said they were wild geese, and that their coming foretold cold weather. The lads watched them wheel and drop toward the water. Then they distinctly heard the splash as the flock alighted.

Ed and George were for getting their guns and going after the birds at once, but Ben told them to wait. He explained that when the geese first settled on the lake they were wary and suspicious, but said that after a while, if not molested, they would begin to feed, and might then be approached more easily.

The boys grew very impatient as the afternoon wore on, and finally sneaked away to the lake to have a look at the geese while Ben was busy. They could hear the birds calling somewhere out on the water, and when near the lake threw themselves flat on their stomachs and crawled carefully along. They peered from behind a big boulder; and there, but a short distance away, was the flock, feeding and splashing about in fancied security.

“Great Scott! Why didn’t we bring our guns?” demanded Ed, in a disgusted whisper.

“You go back and get them, and I’ll stay here and watch,” replied George, crouching lower behind the rock as one of the great birds raised itself on the water and flapped its wings. “We’ll get one for supper and surprise Ben,” he added, chuckling at the thought.

Ed started eagerly away on his errand, but in his haste was inexcusably clumsy, and fell head foremost over a prostrate log which happened to lie in his path. He went down with a loud crash in the midst of a tangled mass of broken branches and brittle sticks.

Instantly the geese jumped into the air with loud, frightened calls, and flew swiftly along close to the water toward a point of the shore a short distance away.

“You’re a peach!” cried George, in dismay, as he rose from behind the rock and surveyed his friend, who was still floundering about in the tangle of deadwood.

“Did they hear me?” inquired Ed, anxiously.

“Hear you! Why--”

Bang, bang!

The report of a gun sounded across the water from the direction of the point toward which the geese had flown. Running to the water’s edge, the boys saw the bodies of two dead geese floating on the surface some distance out. Looking along the shore, they beheld Ben, gun in hand, waving to them.

“Well, what do you think of that?” asked George.

“Beat us at our own game; but we’ll eat goose, anyhow,” laughed Ed, slapping his friend on the back.

Ben was calling across to them, and they listened to catch his words.

“Hey, you fellows, watch those birds. I guess they’re dead, all right, and I’ll come around and get the canoe.”

The boys sat down at the edge of the lake, and Ben disappeared into the woods. When he joined them they entered the canoe and went out to where the geese were drifting slowly away. Ben steadied the frail craft while the boys lifted the heavy birds in over the side.

“Always pick them up by the head and give them a shake to get the water off before you bring them in,” he cautioned.

Then he began to chuckle, for the lads were crestfallen and silent.

“That’s all right, boys; you see, I missed you and knew you had sneaked away to have a peep at the geese. I went inside and saw you had left your guns, which was right and proper, for I want you to remember never to take them unless I’m with you or give you permission.”

The boys looked at each other, thankful that Ed had failed in his mission, for they dreaded to think of the lecture that might have come from Ben had they taken the guns without permission.

“Just as I said, I knew you had no chance of getting any of the birds; and as I was sure they would sooner or later see or hear you, I decided to steal down and knock over a couple. They’re mighty fine eating.” He smiled mischievously.

They landed from the canoe, and each of the lads threw a goose over his shoulder and carried it triumphantly to the cabin. They tied the birds up outside, for Ben told them it was best to let them hang for a day or two before roasting. He said the boys should do the plucking and cleaning at the proper time, as he wished them to learn how to do such things.

While the guide busied himself inside the cabin with the preparation of the evening meal the boys sat outside talking over the interesting happenings of the day. Suddenly Ed ducked his head as a little brown animal sailed past and landed against the trunk of a tree.

“Flying squirrels!” cried George, pointing to the roof of the cabin, where several of them were running about in play.

“Here comes another!” shouted Ed, as one sailed off into the woods from the top of the cabin. “They don’t fly; they glide,” he declared, after having watched several more go past.

Ben came out holding something in his hat. When he sat down beside them, they saw that he had one of the squirrels. He said he had caught it with his hands, using the felt hat to protect him from the sharp teeth of the little creature, which would not hesitate to use them. He held the squirrel in such a manner that the boys were enabled to examine the loose folds of skin which extended down the inside of each leg, almost to its toes. They noted that when the animal spread its legs this skin formed a sort of parachute which enabled the squirrel to sail from a higher to a lower position.

When they had studied the odd little rodent thoroughly, Ben released it, expecting it would run up the side of a near-by tree. Instead, thoroughly frightened, it turned and ran up the nearest object, which happened to be Ben’s left trouser-leg.

The boys rolled over the ground in spasms of laughter, while the guide hopped about endeavoring to shake the squirrel down. After great exertion he finally succeeded, and the panic-stricken little creature ran up the trunk of a convenient pine and hid itself among the branches.

After supper Ben entertained the boys by telling several hunting stories. When he had finished the last one, he declared it bed-time; knocking the ashes from his pipe, he rose and went outside to consult the sky for weather predictions.

“Going to be a fine day to-morrow. Guess we’ll line bees and get some honey for the winter,” he said, when he came in.

“How do you do that?” asked the lads.

“I’ll show you in the morning. It’s time to turn in, now.” And he motioned them to the bunk.

“What did he say about bees?” whispered Ed, when he and George were beneath the blankets.

“I don’t know, but I’ll bet it’s going to be sport,” George replied, sleepily.

III BEES AND WILDCATS

The boys were awake early, and, quickly dressing themselves, they rushed outside to await the appearance of the sun. Ben had told them that the day must be warm and cloudless, for then the bees would work well. Having waited until the sun was some little distance above the horizon, and all danger of a cold or rainy day was past, the hungry lads entered the cabin and ate the meal which the guide had prepared.

As the morning wore on and developed into all the glories of a perfect “Indian summer” day, even Ben became enthusiastic, and declared it just right for the lining of bees.

“Where must we go to find the bees?” asked George.

Before replying Ben took a small bottle from the pantry-shelf. Uncorking it, he began sniffing at the contents. He also brought forth a fruit-jar filled with strained honey, a tablespoonful of which he diluted with warm water and poured into a saucer. Then he found a good-sized piece of old honeycomb. Gathering these things together, he was ready to start.

“We’ll just go down to that little clearing by the lake, where we can see them work,” he said, as Ed and George followed him from the cabin.

In this little woodland meadow some goldenrod had grown and bloomed, and about the blossoms several bees were buzzing industriously when Ben and the boys arrived. The guide seemed much pleased at finding them there, and said he would soon get a line when he had things ready.

He explained that a line was the direction of the bee-tree which held the honey. He said that this was found by watching the bees, who, when they had loaded up with the sweets set out for them, would rise in the air and, after circling about the locality once or twice, would start off in a straight line for the distant tree. Ben cautioned the boys to watch the line of flight as far as they could see it. Then, when they were sure of its general direction, he would move on to where it had faded from their vision, and again set out his bait. They must repeat this operation until they found themselves near the tree. Then they would begin a search for it.

He said he was glad to find the bees at work on the goldenrod. It would save him the necessity of building a fire and rubbing the honeycomb on a hot stone, so that the scent would draw the bees.

Ben uncorked a bottle which contained anise-seed oil. He broke off several blossoming stems of the goldenrod and poured a few drops of the liquid on each. Then he placed them on or near the saucer containing the strained honey, and, bidding the boys be seated, sat down to await developments.

“There’s one now!” cried Ed, as a bee alighted on the edge of the saucer and began to load up with the honey.

Ben nodded his head and smiled.

“There’ll be hundreds here in an hour,” he promised.

“Can they smell it so far away?” asked George.

“No; but these will come back and bring more. You’ll see, before long. Look out! Watch him, over your head there! See him circle? There he goes! Now watch him as far as you can,” cautioned the guide, as the first bee started away for the unknown tree.

“I’ve lost him!” wailed Ed.

“I see him--no, he’s gone!” cried George.

“Never mind, there’ll be many more,” Ben told them. “Watch that fellow on the rim of the saucer; he’s going in a second. There he goes! See him circle? Watch now, watch close, he’s circling again--there he goes--same way,” he declared, shading his eyes with his hands.

For some minutes no more bees appeared, and the boys began to fear that something was wrong. Then three at once alighted on the saucer, and Ben said the tree was not far away. While they were watching them two more came; then others, by ones and twos, until there were fifteen or twenty at the feast. The watchers were kept busy turning and twisting their heads to follow the swift flight of the little workers as each started away with its hoard of sweets. More bees came every moment, until they were arriving and leaving in a steady stream.

Ben had meanwhile discovered what he called a cross-line. Bees from another colony in a different tree had found the tempting feast. They were coming and leaving in a different direction from that taken by the first lot. He decided to follow up the original line, for he believed their tree to be the nearer. He said they would leave this second lot until another day, although he hoped to get all the honey they required from the colony they were tracing.

At length he declared it time to move along the line. Choosing a dead hemlock some distance away, on the side of a hardwood ridge, as the spot where the bees faded from sight on their flight, the guide led the boys through the woods in its direction.

After a hard scramble up the hillside they reached the hemlock and sat down to await the bees. They had not been there long before the industrious little toilers covered the saucer, pushing and crowding one another in their efforts to get their share of the honey it contained. They flew away in the same direction as before, and Ben knew he was on the line. Basing his prophecy on the increased number of bees, he said that with the next moving they should be within reach of the tree.

Once more they traveled on, this time over the ridge and down the other side into a heavily timbered ravine. Here the guide thought they would find the honey-tree. Indeed, no sooner were they seated than bees by the hundreds flocked to the bait. These left without circling, and Ben said it was a sure sign the tree was near.

The bee-hunters rose and began a close inspection of each tree-trunk in the vicinity, looking carefully up and down its length for some opening or cavity which might proclaim the entrance to a hive within. Ben told the boys to travel along in sight of him, one on either side, and urged them to inspect each tree thoroughly. He reminded them that bees sometimes went in an opening at the very bottom, and at other times near the tiptop.

Finally George, who was at the right of the line, came to a great weather-beaten pine with a large cavity in its trunk near the base. He felt sure this was the tree that contained the honey. Stooping down, he foolishly put his face to the opening in an effort to obtain a view of the inside. Luckily there were no bees there, but something else flew out and struck him full in the face. And then, as he fell over on his back from the suddenness of the attack, a perfect army of bats came chattering from the tree. Thrusting his hands before his face, George ran from the spot.