CHAPTER XXIV.

WHAT WOODCRAFT DOES.

After leaving the spot where they had drawn the three canoes into the rushes, the little party started through the woods. Bumpus was very much grieved to see the balance of the scouts go off without him. He did not say anything; but his rosy fat face was eloquent enough, as he nodded in turn to each one of his chums.

“Poor old Bumpus,” said Giraffe, to Davy, in a whisper, “he feels badly cut up at not gettin’ a chance to earn that reward he’s had on his mind so long. And you mark me, the first opening Bumpus gets, he’ll be buying a gun, all right. He doesn’t like to be left out of the fun.”

As a rule they were supposed to keep absolute silence, and Giraffe knew this, as did Davy. Hence the other only nodded in reply, and taking his cue from this, the long-legged scout relapsed into quiet again.

But Giraffe was wide-awake. He meant to observe every little thing that took place around him. With two such veteran guides as old Eli, and the Indian, doubtless there would be more or less woodcraft displayed that must be well worth treasuring up; because a Boy Scout cannot learn too much along these lines.

And the first thing Giraffe noticed was the confident way in which the leader started out. Why, he never seemed to bother his head in the least as to what direction the cabin lay in. Giraffe marveled at this very much. He realized that if the task had been left to him, he would have had to cudgel his poor brains to remember all he had been told by Allan, as to the various methods whereby woodsmen know what is north, when in the dense forest, with the sun hidden from sight, and no compass along.

So Giraffe amused himself while he strode along as carefully as he knew how. He attempted to picture himself in the rôle of guide to just such an expedition, starting out to get to the cabin as quickly as possible, by taking a short cut through the woods, rather than by following the windings of the river.

What would he do first? Oh! yes, there was the bark of the tree to be observed, and the fine green moss that grew only on one side, never all the way around. He remembered that this moss was said to be almost universally upon the north side of the tree, and that if it varied at all, it leaned toward the northwest; because it was from that quarter most of the severe wintry gales came.

But trees differ; and to his surprise Giraffe failed to find this moss in the quantities he had expected. Evidently then pine trees are in a class by themselves, he concluded.

But there were other ways of finding this out. How about the general slant of the trees? Didn’t his instructor assure him that it only needed one glance around, for an old traveler through the forests to tell where north was? He would notice the slant of the trees, and if there were any lying on the ground, observe the way they had fallen, when overturned by the fierce wind. Why, that ought to be the easiest thing in the world; and Giraffe was beginning to feel quite proud of the knowledge he possessed when suddenly a very disquieting thought flashed through his head.

He knew which was north, east, west and south all right; but how was that to tell him where the old cabin lay? He might guess that in all probability it was somewhere off to the southeast; but that was a pretty big region, and the chances of his finding it might be set down as ten against one.

Evidently, then, something else was needed besides the ability to tell where the north lay. In fact, Giraffe was beginning to realize that a good scout must keep a mental map of the country in his head. He may not need a compass one-half so much as he has a use for constant wakefulness, and the power of observation.

He should be able under such conditions as these to put a finger on a certain point of the rude chart he draws, and say: “here’s where I am right now, and there lies the cabin, exactly sou-south east of me; and I can tell where that quarter is as easy as falling off a log.”

The more Giraffe got to thinking about this subject the more he felt enthusiastic over it. Why, he had really never understood how intensely interesting it was. And then and there the boy determined that he would find out all about it. Allan knew, and Allan was only too willing to instruct his fellow scouts in the arts pertaining to woodcraft.

Practical demonstration is worth many times over what a fellow might learn from books. Take that Indian picture writing, for instance; a boy might read about it, and think it rather interesting; but when taking part in the game himself, puzzling his head over the meaning of the plain pictures of men, animals, camp-fire smoke, canoes, tracks in the dirt, and all such things, he would discover that is was intensely exciting, and liable to beat any game of fox and geese he had ever indulged in.

All this while they were making fair progress on their way.

Sebattis never seemed to swerve once, except to avoid some obstacle. Why, he was evidently as positive about his course as Giraffe might be when walking along a street in Cranford. And doubtless, the trails of the great pine woods were just as familiar to this dusky son of the wilderness as those streets could be to one who had been born and brought up among them.

Giraffe figured that they must be about half-way to the cabin by now, though of course it had to be mere guess work on his part, since he had no means of knowing the facts.

He did notice that Sebattis was growing a little more cautious. And also that Thad, looking around just then as if to see how the others were coming along, and catching the eye of Step Hen, put his finger on his lips, as if in that way he would warn the greenhorn scouts to exercise additional care.

It was certainly getting mighty exciting. Giraffe felt hot and cold by turns; but he would not allow himself for one moment to believe that this sensation had anything to do with the quality called fear.

He gritted his teeth, and put on a severe look. He would show them, if the case came to a point where there must ensue a rough and tumble fight, that because he had subscribed to the peace-loving rules of the scouts, he could at the same time rise to a special occasion, when valor was needed.

Why, this feeling was something the same as that which had attacked him when about to fire his first shot at the big black bear. Allan had described it to him once, when telling him how he must overcome the “buck ague” upon getting his first chance to shoot a deer. And Giraffe was determined to conquer himself now, so that he might not later on feel a tinge of shame when speaking of the way they returned to the cabin, bent on capturing the lawless hoboes.

Why, there was Sebattis bending low now, and advancing with redoubled caution. They must surely be close upon the cabin; perhaps it was even in sight, if one cared to raise his head above the tops of the bushes that together with brushwood and dead treetops lay in the way.

No one could equal Giraffe in such a maneuver as this. Nature had given him the advantage over his fellows when endowing him with that extra long neck. And doubtless the shorter Davy, with his thick neck, envied Giraffe, when he saw how easily the other surmounted difficulties in the way of taking an observation, which were bound to prove a barrier to him.

Sure enough. Giraffe caught a fugitive glimpse of something that looked like the back wall of the old cabin, for he saw neither door nor window. How wonderful that the sagacious Penobscot brave could have taken them directly there; and so far as he, Giraffe, had noticed, without once feeling of the bark of the trees, or even sweeping one glance toward the heavens.

Now that the Indian and Thad had dropped on their knees. Of course the others were expected to do the same, and quickly did they follow suit. It must be a part of the game; indeed, Giraffe would have been sorely disappointed had they failed to go through this same experience. In all the books he had read of forest trailing, and advancing upon an enemy’s camp, it was absolutely necessary to go the last part of the journey on hands and knees. And besides, it added vastly to the interest of the thing, Giraffe thought.

So they crept along, getting gradually nearer and nearer to the cabin. So far as could be seen, all was quiet around that place, just as they had left it, in fact. If the hoboes had already arrived they certainly gave no sign of their presence.

Perhaps Sebattis, with his wonderfully trained ear, was able to catch slight sounds that would not reach some of the rest of them, bunglers at best in the science of woodcraft. He seemed to be advancing with perfect confidence; and yet at the same time Giraffe could not but notice that the dusky-skinned Maine guide always kept his gun in a position for instant use.

It made Giraffe remember what he had once read about the early Virginia and New England settlers, pious men, all of them, to be sure; but realizing that each was expected to do his part in taking care of home and family. Giraffe had often repeated the words of their motto to himself, and figured out just what it meant to say “trust in the Lord; but keep your powder dry.” Sebattis felt perfect confidence in his ability to reach the wall of the cabin unobserved; but at the same time he was always ready for _accidents_.

But they were now about the end of the little creeping journey, for the grim back wall of the trapper’s old weather-beaten cabin was at hand. One by one the crawlers arrived, and ranged themselves as close as they could, following the example of the two who had reached the goal first.

Giraffe was immediately conscious of some sort of movement within. It was as if a party might be laboring at something that rather tried his muscle; for besides the heavy breathing, there came a rustling noise, and then mutterings.

“Gimme that piece of wood over there, Kimball,” a voice suddenly growled. “This stone sure beats my time, the way she sticks. I never thort she was half as heavy. Throw it acrost to me, if you don’t want to git up. Thet’s the ticket. Now, will you be good, consarn you?”

It gave Giraffe a thrill. He seemed to guess that the speaker must be working at the hearthstone, under which the scouts had found all that wonderful plunder. What would happen when he discovered how the package left there was only a false “dummy,” and that the bank loot had been carried off? Before Giraffe could settle this at all in his mind, he heard the man inside give a little shout.

“It’s all right, Kimball, I tell you! The stuff is here, under the stone, and jest like we left it a year ago. They never once suspected, the innocents, jest how near they was to a fortune. Things is atakin’ another turn, and I reckon our hard luck’s skipped out. This knocks a big load off my shoulders, believe me, Kimball!”