The Wolf Patrol Part 28

'Where are we going to get it?' cried d.i.c.k.

'When I was down theer'--and Chippy jerked his head towards the river--'I seen a house acrost the fields. If ye'll turn me up a copper ot o' the cash-box I'll tek' a billy an' buy a pennorth.'

d.i.c.k laughed and turned out a penny, and away went Chippy after the milk, while d.i.c.k watched the fire and the haversacks they had piled beside it.

While Chippy was away an old man came up-stream whipping it with a fly-rod. The time of the evening rise was coming on, but very few circles broke the surface of the smoothly running river. d.i.c.k went over and asked him what luck he had had.

'Only two, an' them little uns,' said the old man. 'You see, this is a free stretch for about a couple o' miles, an' it gets fished a lot too much. There are some in it, an' big uns too, but they'm too wide awake to tek' the fly.'

When Chippy came back d.i.c.k reported this. 'Not much chance for you, old chap,' said d.i.c.k; 'the old fellow had got a good fly-rod and fine gut, and he could do little or nothing, so it isn't likely we shall get trout for breakfast in the morning.'

But Chippy's calm was quite undisturbed. 'Said as there wor' some about, an' big uns too, did he?' remarked the Raven. 'That's good enough fer me. Shouldn't wonder but wot I'll yank one or two on 'em out yet.'

He set the billy down beside the fire, and d.i.c.k cried out in wonder.

'By Jingo, Chippy, what a jolly lot of milk! You made that penny go a tremendous long way. You must have dropped across a good sort.'

'Just wot I did,' rejoined the Raven--'a stout old lady, with a heart to match the size of her waist;' and he flipped the penny back at the treasurer.

'And you've brought the penny back!' cried d.i.c.k.

'Wouldn't tek' it nohow,' replied the other; 'said I was kindly welcome.'

'Why, we needn't make any tea,' said d.i.c.k.

'Just wot I thought,' remarked his companion; 'that's tea an' sugar saved at a bang. Bread, milk, an' 'edgehog ought to fill us out aw'

right this time. Now, what about gettin' the bed ready afore we have supper? After supper I may be busy for a bit.'

'Right you are,' said d.i.c.k; and they turned to their first attempt of making a scout's bed.

The farther end of the hanger was composed of a thick growth of larch-trees, and here there had been a fall of timber in the winter.

Two or three lots of logs had not yet been carried away, and the two scouts chose four logs of fairly suitable length for the framework of their couch, and pegged them into position. They could soon have chopped the logs to the right length, but they did not do so, for that would have been damaging other people's property, and no scout acts in such a way as to raise difficulties for those who may come after him.

When the woodmen had felled the larches they had stripped off the branches and cut away the plumy tops with their axes, and heaps of branches and tops lay about among the remaining trees. With axe and knife the scouts cut great armfuls of the tips and carried them to the framework. Here they laid them to overlap each other like the slates on a roof, as Mr. Elliott had shown them, and within an hour they had a dry, springy bed, upon which they flung themselves, and rolled in delight and kicked up their heels for a minute or two.

'One little job agen before supper,' said Chippy, 'but it'll only be a short un. I want two or three minnows, an' I saw a place wheer they wor' swimmin' in hundreds.'

The scouts ran down to the river, and Chippy pointed to a shallow where a great shoal of the tiny fish were glancing to and fro, their sides glittering as they turned in the light of the setting sun. Chippy throw himself flat on the bank, and very slowly and cautiously slipped his hand into the water. The minnows darted away, but soon returned, and the scout, with a swift, dexterous scoop, tossed a couple high and dry on the bank, where d.i.c.k secured them. A second attempt only landed one, but it was a good-sized one, and Chippy sprang to his feet.

'I reckon three 'ull be enough for now, an' we ain't supposed to catch more'n we can use. That's in the books. Got 'em safe?'

'Safe and sound,' replied d.i.c.k. 'But we can't eat these tiny things, Chippy.'

'Not likely,' said the Raven, 'but they'll make first-rate bait: that's wot I'm arter. Now for supper.'

'I'm ready,' said d.i.c.k. 'I'm as hungry as a wolf.'

'Right thing for one o' your patrol,' chuckled Chippy, and the boys laughed as they raced back to their camp.

Chippy opened the heap of ashes and drew out the ball of clay. Very carefully he broke the clay open and disclosed the white flesh of the hedgehog, cooked to a turn, and smelling deliciously.

'Where'e the skin?' cried d.i.c.k; 'and I say, how good it smells!'

'Skin's stuck fast in the clay wi' the p.r.i.c.kles,' replied the Raven.

'Cut some chunks o' bread while I get it out.'

d.i.c.k took the loaf and cut some good slices with his knife, while his comrade dexterously divided the hedgehog into handy pieces. Then they sat about their fire and made a glorious supper. The bread was good, the milk was sweet, the hedgehog's flesh was tender and toothsome.

d.i.c.k forgot all about his first dislike as he ate his share and applauded Chippy's skill and cookery.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE BIG TROUT

'The light's going fast,' remarked d.i.c.k, as supper was ending.

'So it is,' said Chippy, 'and I ain't got a fis.h.i.+n'-rod yet.'

He sprang to his feet and seized the tomahawk.

'Where are you going to get one?' cried d.i.c.k.

'Handy by,' replied the Raven, and marched to a thicket of hazels within thirty yards of the camp fire. d.i.c.k heard one or two strokes of the little axe, and then Chippy came back dragging a tall, straight hazel stem nine or ten feet long. He sat down, took his knife, and began to trim off the side branches.

'So that's your rod, is it?' said d.i.c.k.

'Jolly good un, too, for what I want,' returned Chippy. 'Ye'll soon see.'

He trimmed the hazel and cut down the weaker end until he had a strong, pliant rod about eight feet long. Next he unwound his hank of cord, tied one end round the rod a foot from the bottom, then wound the cord round the rod for its full length beyond, and tied it again at the top.

In this way the whole spring and strength of the rod would be behind the cord, and aid it in its pull.

'No use just to fasten the line at the top,' commented Chippy; 'if yer do, p'raps the top 'll break, an' then theer's yer line, hook, an'

everythin' gone.'

He opened his packet of hooks and took out a largish one, whose shank was covered smoothly with lead.

'I got these hooks from an old chap as lives close by us,' said Chippy.

'He's a reg'lar dab 'and at fis.h.i.+n', an' I've been with him many a time to carry his basket an' things. He rigged me up wi' these when I told 'im about our trip, an' I know wot to do becos I've seen him at it often enough. Now for the minnows.'

Chippy took the largest minnow, and, by the light of the fire, deftly worked it over the hook and lead until the latter was hidden in the body of the tiny fish.

'They call this the "pledge,"' he said, as he fastened the line into the loop of the gut; 'an' the way yer use it is the "sink-an'-draw"

dodge. It's a sure kill, an' yer almost certain to get a big un.'

'But it's going darker and darker!' cried d.i.c.k.

'Dark's the time to use it,' replied his friend; 'that's when the big uns come out an' swim at the bottom o' some deep hole, an' wait for summat to show up atween them an' the sky.'