CHAPTER I.

THE VALUE OF WOODCRAFT.

“Wasn’t that the far-away hoot of an owl just then, Mr. Scout Master?”

“I wonder if it could be one of those tenderfoot recruits that expect to make up the new Owl patrol of our troop? How about that, Hugh?”

“As you’ve put it up to me straight, Billy, I’ll tell you what I think. It’s out of the question for one of those greenhorns to be away up here in the woods; and it was too deep and heavy to be the call of even a big Virginia horned owl. If you fellows will take the trouble to look up through the treetops you’ll notice that there’s a lot of queer flying clouds racing overhead right now.”

“Whew! do you mean it’s going to _storm_, Hugh?” demanded the boy who had answered to the name of Billy. He seemed to be a good-natured, easy-going lad, though just now his face bore an expression of sudden concern.

“I’m sure that was the distant growl of thunder we heard,” came the answer from Hugh Hardin, an athletic fellow who had long been the leader of the Wolf patrol. Very lately, on the resignation of the assistant scout master of the troop, Hugh had been elected to that office, receiving a certificate from Boy Scout Headquarters in New York City that fully qualified him to serve in place of the real chief should the latter be unable to accompany the troop.

There were just four of the lads up in the woods, where they had come to spy out the chances for gathering a bountiful nut crop later on in the fall. Incidentally they practiced certain maneuvers that had to do with scout lore and knowledge of woodcraft.

Besides Hugh and Billy Worth, there were Bud Morgan and Arthur Cameron, the latter of whom had made rapid progress to the grade of a second-class scout, with aspirations for even better things.

All of these boys belonged to the Wolf patrol, the doings of which have been told in the various stories preceding this volume. And though they were by this time pretty well versed in a knowledge of the great outdoors, the fact that a storm was sweeping toward them, with not a single house within a radius of several miles, was enough to create considerable consternation among them.

“We ought to do something right away, hadn’t we, Hugh?” demanded Arthur, possibly a trifle more inclined to be timid than any of his mates.

“If we only had plenty of time,” spoke up confident Billy, “we might make a lean-to out of branches that would shed rain. I’ve helped do it before, and we didn’t get wet, so you could notice. But listen to that growl, will you? No time for us to cut brush and branches, because before we got her half done the old rain would be howling down on top of us. Let’s cut and run for it, fellows!”

“That’s all right, but run where?” demanded Hugh. “It would be silly for us to think we could make as fast time as the storm.”

“Whoop! I’ve guessed a way out of the trouble!” ejaculated Arthur, beginning to show signs of sudden excitement.

“Then, for goodness sake, tell us what it is,” urged Bud, as a third peal of thunder broke in upon their hearing, considerably louder than either that had gone before.

“There, look at that whopping big oak tree, fellows! Don’t you see that it’s hollow to the core?” declared Arthur, pointing as he spoke. “Why, chances are the whole kitting lot of us could squeeze inside; and if the storm comes from the direction of that thunder, not a drop of rain would beat in on us. Well, why don’t somebody say what you think of my bully scheme?”

“How about that, Hugh?” asked Billy, as if in doubt. “Seems to me I’ve been given to understand that a big tree isn’t the best place to get under when a thunder and lightning storm is buzzing around. Hope I’m mistaken, though, because that idea seems to be our best hold just now.”

“Well, Hugh doesn’t think so, you notice,” suggested Bud, who had been watching the face of the acting scout master all the while, as well as the gathering gloom that preceded the passage of the heavy black clouds would permit.

“It would be the very last thing we ought to do, boys,” remarked Hugh, with resolution marking his whole manner. “Of course, that tree might never be struck, for it’s stood through heaps and heaps of other storms; but all the same the risk is there. Many a foolish man has been killed just by doing something like that. No, we’ve either got to take our ducking and stand for it, or else find some other place under shelter.”

“But just where could we go, Hugh?” Arthur questioned uneasily, as all of them saw a vivid flash of lightning shoot across the heavens where a small clearing permitted a view. It was soon followed by a detonating crash that seemed to make the very ground tremble underfoot.

“A barn would be just as bad as a tree, wouldn’t it, Hugh?” asked Bud, who, it appeared, knew something about such things.

“Every whit as bad,” the other told him; “but hurry and come along after me, fellows. I’ve got a little scheme that it may pay to try and work. All depends on how long that rain pleases to hold off. Given five minutes, and I reckon we might make shelter. This way, everybody, and take care you don’t get your feet caught in some root or vine that will throw you!”

Somehow all of the other scouts seemed to have the utmost confidence in their young leader. Hugh had been tested many a time, and seldom failed his chums when a sudden necessity like the present arose.

They went stumbling along through the woods, with Arthur bringing up the rear, as he did not seem to be quite as expert at this sort of thing as the balance of the scouts. Evidently Hugh was taking them on the back trail, because presently Billy recognized a fine white birch that he had marked down when passing, meaning to come back one of these days and strip that splendid mottled bark from its trunk, for some purpose he had in mind.

This fact told him that Hugh must have noticed some feature of the landscape, as he was always keeping his eyes about him, that offered a bare chance of safety from the storm that was chasing after them so swiftly.

“It’ll have to bob up mighty quick, then,” Billy was saying to himself, as he felt the first drop of rain splash against his neck, “for we are going to get it like cats and dogs right away. Hello! where’s Arthur?”

The thunder had been rolling just before, but ceased in time for Hugh to hear this last startled exclamation from Billy. He instantly stopped short in his tracks, and the three scouts came together in a bunch.

“Arthur! Whooee!” shouted Billy.

A rather faint voice answered him from back on the trail.

“Here I am; got caught by the ankle, and had all the breath knocked out of me! Go along, and leave me to look out for myself, fellows!”

“Not much we will,” said Hugh, as he immediately started back again on the run. “We Wolves stick together, come what will. Sink or swim, we never desert a comrade, do we, boys?”

“I guess not,” added Billy, and then quailed as a fierce flash dazzled his eyes; “but this settles it for our dry suits. We’re up against it, all right, boys!”

They quickly reached the place where their unlucky chum was sitting up, trying to work his foot loose from the grip of the vine that had caught him fast. Perhaps Arthur would have succeeded in doing this in due time; but he was out of breath now, and trembling so with excitement that he did not seem able to go at the job the right way.

After taking one look, Hugh gave the imprisoned foot a backward wrench and it came free.

“Hurrah for you, Hugh!” gasped the relieved scout, as he scrambled to his feet; “but you oughtn’t to have come back. I was to blame, and stood ready to take my medicine.”

“Scouts always stand by each other,” said Billy, who now proceeded to occupy a place in the rear, so as to keep an eye on the one who seemed prone to do what he had been warned against.

Either the way was freer of obstacles from that point on, or else Arthur had had his lesson and watched his steps more carefully; at any rate, he managed to keep up with those ahead of him, and did not again come to grief.

Two minutes later, and Hugh turned abruptly to the right.

“Here she comes, fellows!” cried Billy, as he heard an ominous rushing sound some little distance in the rear, which he knew must be made by the descending rain.

“And here’s where we score a mark in our favor in the contest for the prize banner!” Hugh added. “Don’t you see where the rocks crop up on this little rise? I noticed several ledges standing out that ought to shelter us from most of the rain, unless the storm shifts and comes back again. Now, each fellow find a place to crawl under the rock!”

Encouraged by these words, the other three scouts hurried forward. Hugh generously pointed out the first refuge, and told Arthur and Bud to get under shelter as fast as they could manage it.

“How about you and Billy?” cried Arthur, unwilling to profit in this way from the scout master’s discovery.

“Move along in here; a scout’s first duty is to obey orders!” Hugh called back over his shoulder as he hurried on.

It was beginning to rain in earnest, and that rushing sound told that within half a minute they might expect to be fairly overwhelmed by the deluge that was coming with that mighty wind and terrific bombardment of thunder.

Talking was no longer possible. One could not have heard distinctly even if a speaker’s lips were pressed against one’s ear. Hugh understood this, and so he clutched Billy’s arm, dragging him toward a spot where he had discovered another shelf of rock, when that last brilliant flash lighted up their surroundings.

They were not a second too soon; for even as the two boys scrambled hastily under the friendly shelter, down came the rain with such a rush that it seemed as if a cloud must have burst.

Crouching there in the semi-gloom, the two boys looked out on such a spectacle as doubtless neither of them had ever seen before.

It did not seem to be a mere summer storm, but very much after the type of a cyclone, such as sweeps irresistibly over sections of the country at times, tearing up great trees by the roots, and carrying off everything that happens to be in its narrow path.

Right before their eyes they saw several trees crash down. All around them the forest bent far over before the howling wind. By pressing back as far as they were able, the boys managed to keep beyond the reach of the downpour. Had it caught them napping, it would have soaked them to the skin “in three shakes of a wolf’s tail,” as Billy confidently remarked in his chum’s ear, during a brief interval when the awful clamor eased up a little.