CHAPTER XXIII.

THE WAY BLOCKED.

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Step Hen, not in a shout, but cautious like, as became a scout when danger was near; still, he was thrilled by the information which this announcement from Giraffe contained.

If there was a fire beyond, the chances seemed pretty good that they would soon know the truth with regard to Bumpus. Of course they kept on hoping for the best; but almost anything would be preferable to this anxiety that had been gnawing so long at their hearts, it had nearly worn them out.

Allan thrust his burning torch into the ground, behind a neighboring tree, so that its light might no longer blind his eyes when he tried to see the fire Giraffe had discovered.

After all of them had been directed just where to look, by the exulting scout whose sharp vision had first located the far-off light, it was easily decided that there could be no doubt as to its being a fire.

And as the trail ran about that way, in a general direction, of course they were perfectly safe in believing that some, or all, of those they had been so persistently following, would be found alongside that fire.

The very thought gave them a delicious thrill. By another hour then, perhaps in even less time than that, they would likely know the worst. And if, as several of them secretly feared, those two ugly brutes of timber cruisers had dared lay so much as the weight of their heavy hands in anger on Bumpus, or ventured to kick him around as though he were a slave--well, something unpleasant was going to happen to them, that was positive.

"It's a fire, all right," announced Thad; and Giraffe breathed easier, for he had been entertaining a slight fear lest some of his laurels be snatched away.

"And all of a mile from here," Allan remarked. "I wonder however you discovered it, Giraffe, with all these big trees around. There must be just a little opening ahead, and you hit on that avenue."

"Oh!" said Giraffe, as if carelessly, though he was undoubtedly secretly pleased with such words of commendation from one who had had such long experience in the art of woodcraft as the Maine boy; "what's the good of having eyes unless you use 'em? That was just dead easy--for me, you know."

"Now, the question is, what do we want to do--what would seem to be our best course?" Thad went on to say.

"I calculate you are referring to the torch business?" Allan remarked.

"Yes, that's it," replied the scoutmaster, "we've got to decide right now whether to keep on using it for a while longer, or stamp on the same, and make our way ahead the best way possible."

"But why not keep on with the light?" asked Step Hen, who was wondering whether in the darkness he might not be so dreadfully unfortunate as to step on another of those "fighting snakes," and have his _left_ leg put out of commission also, which would be a dreadful catastrophe indeed.

"Because there's always a chance one of those sharp timber cruisers would see it bobbin' along, and that would put them on their guard. We had one experience in that line, you know, fellers, when they heard us coming, and got all ready to receive us. I don't like ever to stamp out a fire, but if you say the word, Thad, out it goes."

"I think on the whole," remarked the patrol leader, "it would be wiser for us to do it. Let's locate that fire by the stars, or any other old way. Now, you can douse the glim, Giraffe."

Accordingly the tall scout trampled on the partly-burned torch until the very last spark had been extinguished.

"Hated to do it, but orders is orders," Giraffe was heard to mutter.

"Listen to him, would you?" said Step Hen, scornfully. "He feels that way about all the fires he makes, too; just hates to put 'em out. Makes me think of an old aunt I have. She raises chickens, but never has any to eat. Why, she says she might as soon eat a baby, as a hen she'd raised, and talked to, and made a pet of. Don't ketch me being so old-womanish and silly."

Now that they were in darkness, it would of course make their progress slower, since they had to reckon on all sorts of obstacles.

"One thing," said Allan, as they started out, "I think I can come back to this same place in the morning, if we should want to find it again."

"But what would we want to find it for?" Step Hen demanded.

"Oh! I don't believe we will; but it might happen, you see, that we'd have to take up the trail again from here," Allan explained.

"You mean in case we lost the fire, or didn't find Bumpus with those two rascals?" Giraffe asked.

"That's it," said the Maine boy.

"Well, how're you agoin' to find this place again?" Step Hen went on to inquire, "all coons look alike to me; and one part of this big timber strikes me as pretty much the same as the rest, 'specially when you see it at night time."

"You wait, and Allan, he'll tell you how," broke in Giraffe, confidently. He felt sure from the way Allan spoke that he knew what he was saying; and after seeing how cleverly the Maine boy had stuck to the trail, when the marks were all Greek to himself and Step Hen, the tall scout had come to have a sincere admiration for Allan.

Besides, just then it happened that Giraffe was feeling pretty good. He had received a very high compliment from the acting scoutmaster, and that is usually a great victory for any ambitious scout.

Why, he almost forgot he was tired to death, and that his injured leg had been paining him furiously. Such an affect can mind have over matter.

"Oh!" said Allan, off-hand, and in no particular hurry to speak, because they all really needed a little breathing spell before going on, "it's generally dead easy to mark most any place in the timber, if only you use your eyes. There's nearly always some odd old stump of a tree standing around that you'd be apt to know again. Sometimes there happens to be a tree with a queer shape, that just catches your eye. Once noticed, it's easy to remember the same."

"And right now you're meaning that pair of trees that have fallen toward each other till they look like a couple of girls going to hug," spoke up Giraffe, quickly; eager to show that those boasted eagle eyes of his had been able to see more than just the campfire far ahead.

"Sure thing. Giraffe, and I'm glad you noticed them, because two heads are better than one, any day," Allan went on to say.

"Even if one is--but I won't say it," Step Hen chuckled.

"Guess you better not," snapped Giraffe. "But now that we've decided on that little tree test of memory, hadn't we better be going ahead? I'm thinkin' of our poor chum Bumpus, and what he may be enduring right now."

"Yes," declared Thad, "we've rested enough, and might just as well be putting our best foot forward."

"Meanin' the right leg," muttered Giraffe.

"You're wrong--it's the left one with Allan and me, and majority rules in our patrol, you know," chuckled Step Hen.

"Come on, boys, I've got the bearings pretty well, if that star only stays out from behind the clouds that hide the moon."

Thad, upon speaking in this strain, started, with Allan alongside to give council, and insure progress along direct lines.

Having had much more experience than the other pair of scouts they were not only able to keep in a fairly direct line with the fire, but managed to avoid stumbling over obstacles as well.

Giraffe and Step Hen proved less fortunate. Several times they stepped into holes, or else tripped over vines. And each mishap was accompanied by more or less of a crash, as well as much grumbling from the unfortunate one, and perhaps chuckling from the other.

This would never do in the wide world. Either they must slow up still more, so as to give the stumblers a chance to pick their way more carefully, or else those better able to move along without trouble would have to take Giraffe and Step Hen in tow.

It was decided that the latter method would be better, all things considered. And so Thad convoyed Giraffe, while Allan slipped a hand through the right arm of Step Hen.

"Case of the blind leading the blind, I guess," muttered the latter, grimly, "because we've both got a game right leg."

"Don't talk any more than you have to, Step Hen," cautioned the other.

So they moved along for some time. At any rate it seemed to go better now. The stumbles were fewer, and of less consequence, and naturally, as the two who lacked experience in this sort of thing, became more and more proficient, their confidence arose accordingly.

Now and then they were able to discover the beacon light that was drawing them along. And in this particular the really sharp eyes of Giraffe proved of great help. Several times he was able to direct Thad's attention to the light when even the scoutmaster had failed to discover it.

But all this while their progress seemed to continue in such a direct forward line that both Giraffe and Step Hen were amazed. They could not understand how it was done, with all those trees, and other obstacles, to avoid.

Some boys seem to be natural-born woodsmen. It comes easy to such to adapt themselves to circumstances, and learn all sorts of new "wrinkles" connected with woodcraft. With others it is a hard task, though determination to succeed is the main thing. Before that will-power, few obstacles can stand.

It was while the four scouts were making fair progress through the timber in this manner, that they suddenly ran up against another serious obstacle, and one that for a time threatened to upset all their calculations.

Allan suddenly gave the low bark of a fox, quickly repeated twice. It brought the boys to a sudden standstill, for they recognized the signal of danger.

The way was blocked!