CHAPTER XX

BUILDING THE NEW SHELTER

The young hunters soon found out that what Joel Runnell said was true. At first glance it looked easy enough to put the necessary shelter into shape, but when it came to clearing and leveling the ground, cutting off a great many tree branches and placing them as desired, and then covering the whole with snow, the work was hard and long lasting, and it was not until the evening of the second day that the task was completed.

Yet all worked with a will, deeming it no labor at all, since they were doing it for their own comfort and amusement.

“Say, Fred, if you had to cut wood like this at home, what would you think of it?” whispered Harry, while both were doing their best to trim away an extra heavy limb of one of the pines.

“I’d think it was ha—hard work,” panted Fred, who was almost out of breath.

“And wouldn’t you like to do it some Saturday afternoon, when there was a football match on, or fine skating?”

“My gracious! don’t mention it, Harry. It would make a fellow’s heart drop to his shoes.”

“No laying off there!” sang out Joe. “This gang has got to keep at work until the job’s finished and I blow the whistle.”

“Better ring the dinner bell,” put in Bart. “I’m almost hungry enough to chew—oh!”

Bart broke off with an exclamation, for just then a soft snowball hit him directly in the back of the neck. He turned swiftly, to catch sight of Fred working away, with an extra innocent look on his chubby face.

“Oh, you needn’t play off on me!” he cried. “I know you did it, Fred.”

“Did what?” asked Fred, continuing his work. “I’m cutting tree branches. What are you doing?”

“This,” continued Bart, and let drive with a snowball that took Fred on the shoulder.

“Hi! hi! stop that!” was the cry, and then Fred aimed another snowball. But it flew past Bart and hit Link in the left ear.

“Oh, my ear!” came with a roar, and Link began to dance around. “Fred Rush, I’ll wash your face for that!”

He made a drive for Fred, but the latter scrambled to the top of the cliff, where Joe was at work. In another moment the young hunters were having a lively snowball fight. By chance one ball hit Joel Runnell in the stomach.

“Hi! I’m not in this!” cried the old hunter. “Stop it, boys, stop it!”

But nobody would listen to him. Fast and furious flew the snowballs in all directions, and almost before he knew it Joel Runnell was hit again. Then he joined in the sport. As he was at the top of the cliff and used only huge chunks of loose snow those below had to steer clear of being buried alive.

“Want to snowball me, do ye!” he cried cheerily. “All right, come along! But take care or the old man will go ye one better! Stand from under!” And down came a chunk of snow as big as a feather bolster. It struck Link’s head and hurled him flat on his back. But Link soon rallied and hit old Runnell in the leg and in the back.

Those at the bottom of the cliff soon sought to get at the top, while those above did their best to keep the others down. It became a battle of three on one side and four on the other. The excitement made Teddy Dugan fairly wild and he let out whoops like an Indian, as he danced around, delivering one snowball after another as if he was in a baseball game.

“Whoop! There’s one for first, and another for second!” he shrieked. “There ye are, shortstop, and, I say, third base, don’t miss the liner!” And bang! Joe caught the snowball in the waist, which doubled him up for the moment. “Here’s fer killin’ the umpire!” And at this last speech old Runnell caught a stinger in the ear. But the old hunter was quick to retaliate, and Teddy went down with a chunk of snow completely covering his head and neck. “Wurra!” he spluttered. “Please don’t throw the whole cliff at me to onct!”

The fight was growing hotter and hotter and in the excitement Joe stepped close to the edge of the cliff. Then, of a sudden his feet slipped, he made a clutch at the pine branches before him, and shot out of sight.

“Hurrah! the enemy is capitulating!” came from below.

“Joe! Joe! where are you?” cried Harry.

“I’ve retired, thank you!” came from under the pines. “I say, let us call it off!” And then the snowballing came to an end. Joe was not hurt, nor had anybody else suffered during the exciting contest.

The boys worked so hard the first day building the shelter that in the morning every back was stiff. When Harry arose it was all he could do to straighten up.

“I’ll be glad when the job is finished,” he grumbled. “A little of that sort of thing goes a great way.”

“Think of how our forefathers used to build their log cabins,” said Bart. “We can be thankful we don’t live in such days.”

“And don’t have any Indians hanging around ready to scalp us,” put in Fred.

“Sure, an’ I’d run for me life if I seen an Indian,” said Teddy, and this caused a laugh.

Bart and Link had brought a fair supply of provisions with them, but Teddy had brought nothing, so it was felt by all in the camp that they must be sparing with their things.

“We’ll have to go out on another hunt to-morrow,” said old Runnell. “We don’t want to live on just deer and bear meat.”

The split in the rock had been cleaned out, and on the evening of the second day a fire was started in the rear of the new shelter. There was a fine draught and every bit of the smoke went up the split without any trouble.

“This looks more like home,” said Harry, after the fire had begun to warm them up. “A camp isn’t a camp at all unless one has a good fire. Even in the summer time a fellow likes to look at the blaze.”

“Right you are, lad,” answered old Runnell. “I’ve been out many a time all alone, and I always found a fire the most friendly thing I could think of to drive away the blues. Even in the hottest of weather I start up some kind of a little blaze between the rocks.”

While the others were sitting close to the fire, Harry drew Link aside.

“Did you hear what Teddy said about Indians,” he whispered.

“Of course I did,” answered Link. He gave a knowing wink. “I guess I know what you are up to.”

“Give him a scare?”

“Exactly, Harry. But how can we do it? We haven’t any Indian costumes.”

“Haven’t we though? That’s all you know about it. Haven’t we blankets, and plenty of birds’ feathers, and some turkey feathers, too, come to think of it. And we can rub a little red dirt on our cheeks.”

“Good! That’s worth remembering. But we can’t do it right away.”

“Not to-night. I’m too tired.”

“What are you fellows whispering about?” demanded Joe.

“I just said I was tired,” answered Link, innocently. “I’m going to turn in.”

“I’ll wager you are up to some mischief.”

“Say, if anybody plays a trick on me to-night I’ll—I’ll shoot him,” came from Fred.

“No tricks to-night, boys,” said old Runnell. “Everybody needs a good sleep after such work as we’ve had.”

On each side of the shelter inside fresh pine boughs had been spread. The heat made the boughs give forth a delicious odor, which was as healthy as it was pleasing. So far none of the lads had taken cold and old Runnell sincerely hoped that all would continue to remain well.

“Teddy, you want to keep one ear open for bears,” said Link, just before retiring.

“I don’t want to see any bears to-night.”

“But one may come in, you know, and try to sample your foot or your hand.”

“Do you think any bears will be around?” questioned the Irish lad in quick alarm.

“Oh, not more than six or seven, Teddy.”

“Then I’ll not go to sleep at all, at all!”

“Teddy, don’t let them fool you,” remonstrated Joel Runnell. “If a bear comes I’ll take care of him.”

“I met a bear once,” said Teddy, after a pause. “I was that close to him,” and he measured off a distance of but a few feet.

“Oh, Teddy, what did you do?” questioned Bart.

“I’ll wager you was scared half to death,” came from one of the others.

“Did he try to bite you, or hug you to death?” questioned still another.

“Were you armed?”

“Where was this, out around here?”

“No, it wasn’t. It was over to Dackerville.”

“Dackerville?”

“That’s what I said. I can tell you that bear was a lively one. Me father was along, but he wasn’t as close to that bear as I was.”

“Well, what did you do to him?” asked Link, impatiently.

“Do? Didn’t do nuthin’.”

“You didn’t! What did the bear do?”

“Rolled over on his head, and walked off.”

“Teddy, are you going crazy? A bear wouldn’t do that.”

“He did, I tell you.”

“He couldn’t have been very savage.”

“I don’t know about that. He had a leather muzzle on, and a chain around his neck.”

“A tame bear!” screamed Harry, and began to laugh. “Oh, that’s the best yet. Link, I guess you are sold.”

“Was it a tame bear?” asked Link, weakly.

“Sure. He could dance, and roll over on his head, and do lots of stunts,” went on Teddy, and now a broad grin crept over his freckled face.

“Teddy, you’re the worst I ever met,” groaned Link, and then after the laughter had subsided he added: “I’ll get square for that. Just you wait and see!”