Chapter 8

THE UPLIFT OF A BOY SCOUT.

They all listened, and heard the far-away howl several more times. Eli even declared that it was not the same beast that gave tongue, but a different one; and this seemed to bear out his statement that the animals usually hunted in packs. If a bunch of them had crossed the St. Johns river, and taken to chasing deer in the forbidden territory of Maine, the tidings would soon spread, and every guide be on the lookout.

"If so be ye run acrost ary wolves, knock 'em over like vermin," Eli remarked, during the discussion of the subject that followed.

"I guess everybody's got his hand raised against the poor old wolf, ain't they?" asked Bumpus; who often felt sorry for the underdog in a fight, no matter if it happened to be a strange cur he had never set eyes on before.

"Why not?" asked Thad, immediately; "when the wolf is no respecter of persons, and will pull down anything that can be used for food? The world over, they are hunted, because they do so much harm. It has always been so from the time the shepherds of Bible times tended their flocks on the hills of Galilee. And as long as living things stay on this old globe, man and wolf will never agree."

"And in every State where they used to run, there has always been declared a fat bounty on wolves," Allan observed. "Why, right now, Maine is paying large sums of money to get rid of her vermin, such as wolves, wildcats, panthers and snakes. I've read that as much as four hundred thousand dollars has been paid out in bounties since nineteen-three."

"Yes," laughed Thad, "and that's where the joke comes in. I read that same article, which was mighty interesting too. It went on to state that some smarties are not content with getting the regular bounty. They grow a gray cat that looks on the order of the wild article--shorten the tail, draw out the claws, and then send in the skin, claiming the six dollars that is paid for each bobcat actually slain within the borders of the State."

It was the turn of old Eli to laugh now.

"I heard tell o' a sharper as cut off the rattles from a lot o' tame snakes he kept shut up, and send 'em in for the bounties each rattle brings; and then he expects his pets ter grow new rattles, which howsumever, I don't guess they kin; but thet air story goes ter show what some men will try an' do ter beat the pore old government people."

"Whew! and I just can't stand for snakes at all," remarked Step Hen. "If ever I felt one touch me, I believe I'd nearly take a fit."

"Ha! let Davy do that!" cried Giraffe, quickly; at which there was a shout that must have made the two guides stare, until the joke was explained to them.

It seemed that once upon a time Davy had been subject to sudden severe cramps in his stomach, that used to double him up like a hinge, and render him incapable of action. His teachers at school had been duly warned, and many an afternoon had Davy been granted leave to go home because of a sudden attack; though it must have departed as suddenly as it came; since he was generally seen flying his kite on that same afternoon. And the cramps never attacked him on a dull, rainy day.

When he joined the scouts Davy, wishing to shirk hard work, had commenced to have these queer cramps; but wise Thad, believing that the other must long ago have outgrown the disorder, and was only shamming, laid down a course of treatment so severe that, singular to relate, Davy had ever since been utterly free from the infliction; which the rest of the boys considered simply wonderful.

And that was why there was a shout, with all eyes turned toward Davy Jones, when by mere accident Step Hen mentioned the word "fit."

But Davy only colored up a bit, and grinned amiably.

"That's a dead issue, fellers, so you needn't stare at me that way," he remarked, composedly. "Never again. Thad cured me right off the reel. 'Nothing like heroic treatment, when all else fails,' he said; and it did the job, clean as a whistle. I never can have a fit again, if I tried."

"You'd better not," remarked Bumpus, solemnly winking his left eye at Step Hen, and significantly touching a good-sized club he had at his side.

But that howling of the wolves, hunting their supper far away, did not keep the boys from enjoying a good night's sleep. Of course there was some sort of watch kept; but those who were not entrusted with the vigil had no reason to bother their heads over it. All night long they slept in absolute safety. If Eli, Jim, Allan and the scoutmaster took turns being on deck, to make sure the camp was not raided, that fact did not keep the other four from slumbering as peacefully as though tucked in their beds at home, and under the parental roof.

Another dawn found them awake, and only too anxious to get a good warm fire started; for the frost was surely around them, and at that early hour it bit severely, too. But they could always depend on Giraffe to coax the wood to do its best in dispelling the cold atmosphere; and soon they were no longer shivering, but fully dressed, and assisted in getting breakfast.

Thad cast his eye upward several times during the progress of the meal.

"You seem to be anxious about something Mr. Scout Master?" remarked Step Hen, who had been highly favored that morning, being chosen to accompany the leader on a hunt for fresh meat; and Step Hen was therefore more interested than the others in what seemed to have aroused the attention of Thad.

"I was wondering whether we mightn't get our first snow-storm before another sundown, that's all," replied the other, with a smile.

"Now, however could you tell that, when everything looks bright, and oh-be-joyful to me up yonder?" burst out the wondering Bumpus.

"Well, there are some things one can know, partly by instinct, and find it pretty hard to explain," Thad went on to say. "I seem to feel a something in the air that says 'snow' as plain as words. It may be just a sort of dampness; but that's the way about it. Then I notice the direction of the wind, which is northwest; and the cut of those few cirrus clouds lying low near the horizon. I can't exactly explain so that you could understand, but if I was asked my opinion, I'd say we'll see the snow flakes flying before many hours."

"How about that?" demanded Step Hen, turning on Eli and Jim.

"He's right, 'cause thar's agoin' ter be summat o' a fall. P'raps 'twon't amount ter much, nobody kin tell that; but it sez snow, all right," the first guide observed, after taking a look all around.

"Me tew," was all Jim said; but he accompanied the words with a vigorous nod in the affirmative, that stood for a lot.

"That settles it," Step Hen declared. "I'm going out prepared for business. Never did like to be snowed under, any way you take it."

"Too bad we ain't got a snow shovel along," remarked Giraffe, sarcastically.

"Oh! you can joke all you want to," snapped back the other; "you're so lofty you needn't mind an ordinary snowfall. If it got up to your chin, you could still manage to stretch that rubber neck of yours around, and feel comfortable. But I ain't in the same class, you see, with my ordinary figure, and short neck. But all I meant to say was, that I'd keep my sweater on under my coat, and stick my woolen gloves in my pockets."

"Loan you my earmuffs if you say the word, Step Hen," spoke up Bumpus.

"Well, now, that's decent of you, Bumpus," the other scout remarked; "but you see, this old corduroy cap of mine has earflaps that can be turned down. It's just a bully thing for a cold, windy day. But after such a generous offer, Bumpus, why, I give you my full permission to turn over your badge. You've begun the day bright and early, by trying to do a generous deed for a comrade."

Of course, what Step Hen referred to was the well-known rule by which the great body of members composing the Boy Scouts' organization of America has been governed, in order to teach the units of each patrol and troop the benefits to be derived from making themselves useful to others.

In the morning every scout is supposed to pin his badge upside-down, on the lapel of his coat; and is not allowed to change its position until he has found an opportunity for helping some one, either by act, or advice that is really useful. It may only be a very simple thing; but it teaches the lad, first of all, the useful attribute of observation; and after that the still more precious one of service. Even though he but assist an old man across a street where vehicles are numerous; or take a market basket from the hands of a housewife, who is staggering homeward under the heavy burden, the effect is the same.

It makes his boyish heart thrill with a satisfaction that develops the trait of generosity; and gives every lad a more manly sensation; for he realizes that small though he may seem, he is of some value to the world.

"Oh!" said Bumpus, blushing, "I guess I hadn't ought to take advantage of such a little thing as that, so's to get my badge turned. I'll find a chance to do something that's more worth while, before the morning's an hour old. And Step Hen, if you bring home the bacon in the shape of a noble six-pronged buck, you must let me take your picture, with your foot on the prize. Why, it will be the most valuable heirloom in your family, years from now. Your great grandchildren will point to it in pride, and tell how you slew the Jabberwock in the woods of Maine."

"Well," grinned Step Hen, "wait till I get the buck. I don't count my chickens before they're hatched. And I hope for one thing--that when we do come back, there's going to be a little peace in the camp; and that our friend Giraffe here, will have solved the riddle that's been worrying him so long. Them's my sentiments."

Giraffe made a mock bow, as he remarked in his most amiable way:

"Much obliged for making that wish, Step Hen; and from present indications I've got a sort of hunch that something is going to happen along them lines. Woke up in the night after having a dream, and it all came to me like a flash, where I'd been making a mistake. And as soon as I get through eating, I'm going to work trying to start things just like I saw in my dream. Oh! I'll get there, sooner or later, by hook or by crook. You never saw me give a thing up yet."

"Hey! what's that?" remarked Davy Jones, quickly. "How about that time you got in old farmer Collins' watermelon patch one night, and hooked a nice big melon he had doctored, so as to teach the boys a lesson. Oh! I know, because I was along with the crowd; and seems to me you gave up everything you owned, during that never-to-be-forgotten hour. I know I did; and I've never eaten a melon since without shivering."

"Say, quit that melancholy subject, won't you?" demanded Bumpus. "I don't like to be reminded of my wicked past, because I've turned over a new leaf since I joined the scouts. Why, you couldn't tempt me now with the biggest grandfather watermelon ever grown. B-r-r! It makes me shake, just to remember some things that happened in those old days, when I went with Giraffe, and Davy Jones, and the rest of that lark-loving crowd."

Half an hour afterwards Thad and Step Hen started out, guns in hand. Knowing that the patrol leader was perfectly at home in the woods, no one bothered about giving them advice; or predicting all manner of direful calamities ahead. Let it snow and blow as it pleased, Thad was enough of a woodsman to know how to make himself comfortable, and get back to the camp on the lake shore in due season.

Of course Bumpus had been more or less disappointed because he did not have an early chance to prove the merits of his new gun, since he had been taking private lessons from one of the guides in the way of handling firearms. But Thad had promised that the fat boy and Giraffe should have the next chance for a hunt; they were canoemates, and seemed often thrown together, perhaps because they represented the "fat and the lean of it," and as Bumpus was fond of saying, "extremes meet."

Half an hour later, and the two young Nimrods had managed to get a couple of miles from the camp. But as yet they had not sighted that wonderful six-pronged buck which Step Hen was to lay low. They walked along about fifty feet apart, Thad generously allowing his companion to be a little in advance of him. This he did really because he wished Step Hen to have the advantage of the first shot; being confident that if the other failed to bring down the game he would still have some show before the deer could vanish from sight.

Then again, it was just as well to have Step Hen in front. He was inclined to be nervous; and some sudden whirr of wings, as a partridge flew out of a nearby thicket, might cause his finger to press on the trigger of his gun a little harder than he intended. Thad believed in being on the safe side, every time.

Step Hen carried a lovely little repeating rifle of the thirty-thirty type; and his ammunition was of the soft-nosed kind, which, as it "mushrooms" on striking, is just as serviceable as a ball three times as large; while Thad had his double-barrel Marlin shotgun, a twelve bore, with buckshot shells meant for big game.

As they were passing through what seemed to be a tangle such as is seldom met with in the pine woods of Maine, where they had to dodge trailing vines, Step Hen, in trying to avoid one that threatened to catch him by the neck, managed to stumble over a log, and go sprawling forward, his gun flying from his grip, but fortunately not going off. But immediately Step Hen commenced to thresh around, as he shouted out:

"Thad! Oh! Thad, hurry up, and help me out of this! My legs are twisted in the vine; and something bit me! I know it must a been a rattlesnake, and I'm a goner!"