Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Part 31

"Fred, you'll have to act as leader," Mr. Hatfield told his son. "Think you can do it?"

"I'll sure try," Fred promised grimly.

The four Den 2 Cubs threw themselves into the dance whole-heartedly. So spirited was their performance that all the parents applauded vigorously.

After a brief conference, judges announced that Den 2 had captured the event, winning back the ten points they had lost.

"Thirty-six to thirty-three!" Chips chortled, taking heart. "Say, we still have a chance to win this old pow-wow!"

"Only one more event remains," Mack pointed out. "That's the canoe race."

"Then we're sunk," Mack groaned. "Without Brad and Dan, we may as well give up without even entering the event."

"A Cub doesn't quit," Midge said severely.

"Who can we put in besides you?" Mack demanded. "You're pretty fair, but there's no one else to back you up. Chips, Fred or me-we're not in the cla.s.s of Dan or Brad."

Mr. Hatfield and Mr. Holloway held a brief conference concerning the final event on the program. They too were fully aware that without Brad or Dan, the compet.i.tion could not be won.

"Even if we do trail miserably, we'll enter the event," Mr. Hatfield decided. "We can't have Den 1 saying we're poor sports."

"Midge is our best bet. He's very nearly as good as Dan."

"But not the equal of Brad," Mr. Hatfield said ruefully. "And we have no one else. Neither Mack or Chips is strong and they're only fair swimmers.

Fred can swim well enough, but he hasn't practiced paddling enough to develop much skill."

"We have no choice," the Den Dad replied. "It will have to be Fred."

A short course had been marked on the river with buoys. In this, Mr.

Hatfield and Mr. Holloway had taken no part, leaving the matter entirely to Den 1 leaders.

The two canoes were carried down to the beach, ready for launching.

"Now remember, boys, this is a friendly compet.i.tion," Mr. Hatfield warned. "No straining to win. Just take it in your stride."

Fred selected a paddle, his heart thumping. The Den 2 boys were being very decent. Both Midge and Mack had a.s.sured him that it didn't matter whether or not the race was lost. But he knew better!

Den 2, especially Dan and Brad, had worked like beavers in the hope of winning the silver plaque.

Now, despite very bad luck, the score stood 33 to 36!

According to the rules, ten points would be awarded the two-man team which won the canoe race. None were to be given for second place.

So, as it stacked up, the silver plaque and Den 2's honor depended upon winning the compet.i.tion.

But no one knew better than Fred how hopeless was the prospect. Ross Langdon and another powerfully built Cub, Donald Fall, were to represent Den 1.

The boy watched them as they warmed up a bit, dipping their paddles in perfect unison.

He and Midge could not hope to coordinate their movements, for they never had practiced together. Always it had been taken for granted that if for any reason Dan could not compete, the team would be comprised of Midge and Brad.

"Don't look so worried, son," Mr. Hatfield said, slapping him on the shoulders. "This race is only for fun, you know. Win or lose, just do your best."

"Sure," Fred agreed with a grin. He gripped the paddle so tightly that the knuckles of his hands showed white.

"If Ross and Donald take the lead, don't let it worry you," Mr. Hatfield added. "Just stroke at your own speed."

"Which will be plenty slow," Fred replied. "Den 1 already is starting to celebrate victory."

It was true that several of the Den 1 Cubs were capering about on the beach, laughing and acting as if the plaque already were theirs.

In the stern of the Den 1 canoe, Ross flashed a confident, almost arrogant smile.

"What we waiting for?" he demanded. "Let's go!"

Sick at heart, Midge and Fred took their own places in the Den 2 canoe.

Both crafts prepared to line up at the starting point for the race.

Paddle poised, Midge chanced to raise his eyes to gaze toward the forest.

He stiffened into alert attention. Dare he trust his own vision?

Midge brushed a hand across his eyes and looked again. No mistake. From amid the trees emerged two disheveled figures. Red and Brad!

"Wait!" shouted Midge, letting his paddle clatter into the bottom of the canoe. "Hold everything! They're here at last!"

CHAPTER 19 THREE POINTS

To be left alone in the cave with only the unconscious Miquel for companion, was an eerie experience, Dan discovered.

A dreadful quiet settled upon the dark chamber once Red and Brad had gone. Dan sat with his back against a projecting rock, within reach of the old man, should he stir.

The chill of the cavern began to creep into his bones. He arose to feed the fire, noticing that there was very little wood. Scarcely enough to burn another twenty minutes. He dared not venture in search of more, lest the old Indian fully revive in his absence.

For a long while after his companions had gone, Dan sat listening to the melancholy slap of the waves at the mouth of the cave. He could not estimate time very accurately. But as the fire burned lower, he reasoned that Brad and Red should have reached the camp.

At any moment now, he encouraged himself, help would arrive. He hoped that Brad and Red would get there in time to compete in the pow-wow. If they did, his own sacrifices would be well worth while.

Old Miquel moaned and rolled over on the rock floor.

Instantly alarmed, Dan got to his feet, to place himself between the man and the edge of the pool.

Feeling inadequate to the situation, he rearranged the blanket, tucking it more closely about the figure. Old Miquel's hands were icy cold and clammy to the touch. The cave was cold and, in addition, the elderly man's clothing was wet.

"He may not last long unless Brad gets back here with help," Dan thought.