Storm Bound Part 10

Along about the middle of the morning, after they had been making rather slow progress, and laboring heavily, Elmer was seen to betray sudden interest, and to quicken his footsteps. Then he turned, and beckoned wildly to them. As the other toilers reached his side the scout master pointed ahead of him, and remarked:

"There's something moving in the snow yonder, boys; look and see if you can make out what it is!"

At that they all stared very hard, and Lil Artha was the first to exclaim:

"Seems to be some sort of small animal switching around like it might be caught in a trap, Elmer!"

"Yes," added Toby, "I saw it jump up then, and whatever it is the thing looks a sort of silver gray or black. There, didn't you see again?

Elmer, do you know what it can be?"

"Somebody, and perhaps Uncle Caleb, has planted a trap right here, and a fox is caught in the same by its leg!" came the ready reply.

"A fox, did you say!" echoed Lil Artha; "why, Elmer, none of us ever saw a fox of that color before. Every one I've ever set eyes on was either gray or red."

"Let's step up closer," the scout master remarked, "and we'll be able to tell more about it."

As the four boys continued to advance the little animal struggled harder than ever to break away, but without success. It was undoubtedly a good-sized fox, for they could not mistake that bushy tail, and the sharp nose as well as shrewd face. It showed its white teeth quite savagely as they drew nearer.

"Well, it is a fox all right," Lil Artha admitted, "though different from any I ever saw in the woods, or even in a menagerie."

"A good reason for that," Elmer told him, quietly; "such a silver fox is rare, and too costly for showmen to keep, as a rule. A red fox may be worth all the way from five to thirty dollars, but from what I've read about the value of furs, the pelt of a genuine silver fox sometimes brings more than fifteen hundred dollars, even in its raw state."

"Gee whiz! you don't tell me?" exclaimed George, looking astounded; and of course he did not believe what Elmer was saying, because it sounded too incredible for him to swallow.

"Oh! I've read something about these black foxes, come to think of it,"

Lil Artha admitted, "and so this is one, is it? Well, Uncle Caleb must have known he was around, and set this trap on purpose to get him."

"Yes, that's about the size of it," added Toby, "because I happen to know that as a rule he never bothers trying to trap any of the little animals up around this section. He used to, just to pa.s.s the winters away, but when he got interested in photography he said he found ten times as much pleasure in creeping up on them, and shooting with a camera, to anything he had ever done before with a gun. Fact is, he seldom uses his gun except to get an occasional deer, some partridge or a rabbit to serve him as fresh meat."

Elmer bent over a little closer, and examined the condition of affairs.

"We'll have to knock that fox gently on the head, I guess," he remarked.

"You can see that the trap has cut deeply into his leg, and if he was let alone another hour or two he would be likely to gnaw that paw off in order to get free. They often do this. You see the cruel jaws of the trap mutilate their leg, and pain so much when they struggle that in desperation they bite at it until they get away; and after that a three-legged fox is found roaming the woods. Besides, it would be a shame for Uncle Caleb to lose that splendid prize."

"I guess you're about right, Elmer," Lil Artha observed, "and so we leave it to you to put the poor little fellow out of his misery. It's been a tough thing on him because Nature gave him a silver black coat.

If he'd been an ordinary red fox Uncle Caleb might never have bothered setting this trap, and he could have gone right along making his suppers off partridges and such nice things, or else chickens belonging to any farmers inside of twenty miles, if there are any. I'll hold your gun while you do the job, Elmer, because I don't reckon you'd want to spoil a fifteen hundred dollar pelt by riddling the same with bird shot."

CHAPTER IX

THE COMING OF UNCLE CALEB

ELMER may not have exactly fancied the job, but he was one of those fellows who can always be depended upon to perform any duty devolving on him, no matter how disagreeable. And it was not to be thought of that they should pa.s.s on, to let the poor little animal gnaw its foot off; as well as disappoint the trapper when he had made such a rare catch.

So handing his pack and gun over to the care of the others Elmer looked about until he spied the right sort of stick with which he could dispatch the little beast by a clip on the head, so as not to spoil the valuable skin in any way.

When this had been done in great shape they examined the silver fox more closely and admired the sheen of his coveted coat, for which wealthy people are ready to pay almost any price.

"Shall we hang it up here above the trap?" asked Toby, presently.

"What for?" Elmer went on to say.

"Why, so Uncle Caleb can get it when he comes along," replied Toby; "you wouldn't want to make him die of heart failure, would you, by letting him see he'd made a catch of a silver fox, and that it was gone?"

Elmer laughed at him.

"Why, what's to hinder our camping right here, and waiting for Uncle Caleb to show up?" he asked.

"Well, I declare, what a lot of ninnies the rest of us were not to think of that!" chuckled Lil Artha; "I tell you it's a good thing for George, Toby, and me that we've got you along, Elmer. We'd be losing our heads next, I'm afraid."

"It wouldn't be the first time you'd lost your head, Lil Artha," George hastened to a.s.sure his comrade. "But I want to say that I think the idea is all to the good, and that I'm ready to camp right here, and keep on waiting for Uncle Caleb to show up, whether it takes an hour, a day or a week; so long as our supply of venison holds out."

"So far as that goes," Elmer continued, "I wouldn't be surprised to see him any old time, because after the storm he'll be anxious to look into this trap."

Toby stretched his neck and looked all around.

"Don't seem to see anything of him yet," he remarked.

"When he comes," resumed the scout master, "I think you'll find it'll be from that direction over there. I see a good place where we can drop down and hide; so come on, fellows."

"Hide?" echoed George; "whatever would we want to be doing that same for, Elmer?"

"Just to see how disappointed Uncle Caleb looks when he gets here, and finds all these signs around, the blood on the snow, the hair of a silver fox in the closed jaws of the trap, and footprints everywhere,"

the scout master told him.

Toby was heard to laugh.

"I can just imagine how he'll act," he ventured; "but then, we'll let him know who got the pelt before he's had much time to growl."

Elmer held the dead fox up by his bushy tail, and George was seen to look keenly at it as he muttered:

"Fifteen hundred dollars, and for that measly little runt? I don't believe there's a word of truth about the story. Somebody's been stuffing you, Elmer."

There happened to be a pretty good hiding-place close by. It lay just about where Elmer would have picked it out had he been given a chance.

Here they proceeded to settle down, and make themselves as comfortable as the conditions allowed.

"Wonder how long we'll have to wait?" Toby remarked, after they had sc.r.a.ped the snow away, and made places where they could stretch their rubber ponchos out and with blankets on top form comfortable seats upon which to rest their tired bodies.

"That depends a whole lot on how soon Uncle Caleb would think to start out, and how far he has to come to get here," Elmer told him. "The walking is tough enough for us, and yet we're young. He's a pretty old man, Toby says, and might have a harder time of it than we would. But then by noon there ought to be something doing, I'd think."

George had been looking around, and now gave them the benefit of his observations.

"Plenty of wood handy, notice, fellows; if we have to hang out here any length of time, why, we could make a fire, and do our little cooking stunt all right."

"Why, what's getting into George," remarked Toby, pretending to be surprised; "he seems never to get enough to eat. Time was when he had a little bird appet.i.te, but these days he's like a hungry bear all the time."