The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound Part 20

"One reason I wanted to come out this morning," explained Paul, "was that there seems to be a feeling in the air that spells storm to me.

If we had a heavy fall of snow the beaver house might be hidden from view."

"What's that you say, Paul--a storm, when the sun's s.h.i.+ning as bright as ever it could? Have you had a wireless from Was.h.i.+ngton?" demanded Spider, grinning.

"Oh! I seem to _feel_ it in my bones," laughed Paul. "Always did affect me that way, somehow or other. And nine times out of ten my barometer tells me truly. How about that, Tolly Tip? Is this fine weather apt to last much longer?"

The guide seemed to be amused at what they were saying.

"Sure and I'm tickled to death to hear ye say that same, Paul," he replied. "By the powers I'm blissed wid the same kind av a barometer in me bones. Yis, and the signs do be tilling me that inside of forty-eight hours, mebbe a deal less nor that, we're due for a screecher. It has been savin' up a long while now, and whin she breaks loose--howly smoke, but we'll git it!"

"Meaning a big storm, eh, Tolly Tip?" asked Spider, looking a bit incredulous.

"Take me worrd for the same, lads," the woodsman told them.

"Well, if your prediction comes true," said Spider, "I must try to find out how to know what sort of weather is coming. I often watch the predictions of the Weather Bureau tacked up at the post office, but lots of times it's away off the track. Bobolink was saying only this morning that he expected we'd skip all the bad weather on this trip."

At mention of Bobolink's name, the trapper chuckled.

"'Tis a quare chap that same Bobolink sames to be," he observed. "He says such amusin' things at times. Only this same mornin' do ye know he asks me whether I could till him if that short tramp's hand had been hurted by a cut or a burrn. Just as if that mattered to us at all, at all."

Paul did not say anything, but his eyebrows went up as though a sudden thought had struck him. Whatever was in his mind he kept to himself.

When they arrived at the marsh where Tolly Tip had several of his traps set he told his companions what he wanted them to do. Under certain conditions they could approach with him and witness the process of taking out the victim, if fortune had been kind to the trapper. Afterwards they would see how he reset the trap, and then backed away, removing every possible evidence of his presence.

Both scouts were deeply interested, though Spider rather pitied the poor rats they took from the cruel jaws of the Newhouse traps, and inwardly decided that after all he would never like to be a gatherer of pelts.

Later on Tolly Tip led them to the frozen creek, where they picked up a splendid mink and an otter as well. Shrewd and sly though these little wearers of fur coats were, they had not been able to withstand the temptation of the bait the trapper had placed in their haunts, with the result that they paid the penalty of their greed with their lives.

Finally the trio reached the pond where the beaver lived. It was, of course, ice covered, but the conical mound in the middle interested the boys very much. Paul took several pictures of it, with his two companions standing in the foreground, as positive evidence that the scouts had been on the spot.

They also examined the strong dam which the cunning animals had constructed across the creek, so as to hold a certain depth of water.

When the boys saw the girth of the trees the sharp teeth of the beavers had cut into lengths in order to form the dam, the scouts were amazed.

"I'd give a lot to see them at work," declared Paul. "If I get half a chance, Tolly Tip, I'm going to come up here next spring if you'll send me word when they're on the job. It would be well worth the trip on horseback from Stanhope."

Upon arriving at the camp toward noon the boys and their guide found everything running smoothly, and a great deal accomplished. Jud had not come back as yet, but several times distant shots had been heard, and the boys were indulging in high hopes of what Jud would bring back.

"You musn't forget though," Paul warned these optimists, "that we're not the only pebbles on the beach. There are others in these woods, some of them with guns, and no mean hunters at that."

"Meaning the Lawson crowd," remarked Bobolink. "Your statement is quite true, for I've seen Hank do some mighty fine shooting in times past. He likes nothing so much as to wander around day after day in the fall, with a gun in his hands, just as old Rip Van Winkle used to do."

"Yes," remarked Jack, drily, "a gun in hand has served as an excuse for a _loaf_ in more ways than getting the family bread."

"Hey!" cried Bluff, "there comes Jud right now. And look what he's got, will you?"

CHAPTER XXI

SETTING THE FLASHLIGHT TRAP

"Jud's holding up one measly rabbit, as sure as anything!" exclaimed Bobolink, with a vein of scorn in his voice, as became the lord of the hunt, who on the preceding day had actually brought down a young buck, and thus provided the camp with a feast for supper.

"We'd soon starve to death if we had to depend on poor old Jud for our grub!" remarked Tom Betts, with a sad shake of his head.

"All that waste of ammunition, and just a lone rabbit to show for it!

They say successful hunters must be born, not made!" Sandy Griggs went on to say.

Other sarcastic remarks went the rounds, while Jud just stood meekly, seeming to be very much downcast.

"Are you all through?" he finally asked, looking up with a grin.

"Because before you condemn me entirely as a poor stick of a hunter I want to ask Bobolink here, and Spider s.e.xton to walk over to that low oak tree you can see back yonder, and fetch in what they find in the fork. I caved on the home stretch and dropped my load there."

"Good for you, Jud!" exclaimed Paul. "I suspected something of the kind when I saw the soiled condition of the game pockets in your hunting-coat, and noticed that a partridge feather was sticking to your hair. Skip along, you two, and make amends for jos.h.i.+ng Jud so."

Of course Bobolink and Spider fairly ran, and soon came back carrying seven plump partridges between them, at sight of which a great cheer arose. Like all fickle crowds, the boys now applauded Jud just as strongly as they had previously sought to poke fun at him.

"Oh! I don't deserve much credit, boys," he told them. "These birds just tree after you scare them up, and make easy shots. If they flew off like bullets, as they do in some parts of the country, that would be a bag worth boasting of. But they'll taste mighty fine, all the same, let me tell you!"

During the afternoon the scouts found many things to interest them.

Tolly Tip, of course, had to take care of the pelts he had secured that day, and his manner of doing this interested some of the boys considerably.

He had a great many thin boards of peculiar pattern to which the skins were to be attached after stretching, so that they would dry in this shape.

"Most skins ye notice are cut open an' cured that way," the old woodsman explained to his audience, as he worked deftly with his knife; "but some kinds are cased, bein' taken off whole, and turned inside out to dry."

"I suppose you lay them near the fire, or out in the sun, to cure,"

remarked Tom Betts. "I know that's the way the Indians dry the pemmican that they use in the winter for food."

"Pelts are niver cured that way," explained the trapper, "because it'd make thim shrink. We kape the stretcher boards wid the skins out in the open air, but in the shade where the sun don't come. Whin they git to a certain stage it's proper to stack the same away in the cabin, kapin' a wary eye on 'em right along to prevint mould."

All such things proved of considerable interest to the scouts, most of whom had very little practical knowledge along these lines. They were eager to pick up useful information wherever it could be found, and on that account asked numerous questions, all of which Tolly Tip seemed delighted to answer.

So another nightfall found them, with everything moving along nicely.

"Guess your old barometer didn't hit it far wrong after all, Paul,"

remarked Sandy Griggs, about the time supper was nearly ready, and the boys were going in and out of the cabin on different errands.

"It has clouded up to be sure," said the scout-master, "and may snow at any time, though I hope it will hold off until to-morrow. I mean to set my camera trap to-night, you remember, with another comb of wild bee honey for a bear lure."

"I heard Tolly Tip saying a bit ago," continued Sandy, "that he didn't believe the storm would reach us for twelve hours or more. That would give you plenty of time to get your chance with old Bruin, who loves honey so."

"Jud's promised to go out with me and help set the trap," Paul remarked. "You know it's a walk of nearly a mile to the place, and these snowy woods are pretty lonely after the dark sets in."

"If Jud backs out because he's tired from his tramp this morning, Paul, call on me, will you?"

"Bobolink said the same thing," laughed the scout-master, "so I'm sure not to be left in the lurch. No need of more than one going with me though, and I guess I can count on Jud. It's hard to tire him."