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The Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods Part 2

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And so from that day Step Hen was noticed to be eagerly on the watch for new sights. He asked many questions that proved his mind had awakened; and Thad knew that that half hour when the scout had lain alongside the mountain road down in North Carolina, had possibly been the turning point in his career; for he would never again be the same old careless, indifferent Step Hen of the past.

"There comes another canoe down the river!" suddenly cried b.u.mpus, who was still squatting in the bow of the leading canoe, industriously rubbing his right shoulder as though it pained him considerably; a fact Thad noticed, and which had caused him to promise that he would take a look at the lame part when they stopped for their midday meal, very soon now.

There was only one man in the canoe that was approaching, and presently Jim Hasty remarked that he knew him.

"It's sure Hen Parry, from up where I used to hold out," he went on to say; and then called out to the approaching Maine guide, as his make-up p.r.o.nounced the other to be; "hullo, Hen, howd'ye? Glad tuh see yuh. Come closer, and shake hands. How's everybody up to the old place?"

The other dark-faced fellow seemed pleased to his old friend, and immediately gripped the extended hand.

"Guess ther putty well up thar, Jim; an' no need o' my askin' how ye be'n, 'cause yer lookin' prime," he remarked; and then suddenly an expression akin to dismay flashed across his weather-beaten face, as he continued: "By the same token I got er message fur ye, Jim, in case I run up agin ye on my way down to Squawpan, where I gotter meet a party that's bound up huntin'. Ye won't like to hear it, neither, I kinder guess, 'cause it's from a feller ye got no use for."

"Cale Martin?" burst involuntarily from the lips of Jim Hasty, while his face turned a shade whiter under its coat of tan.

"Ther same critter," Hen went on. "He's still runnin' things to suit hisself up thar around the Eagle chain, an' larfin' at all ther game wardens in Aroostook county ter stop him ahavin' his way."

"Why should he tell yuh anything tuh say tuh me; an' how'd he know I was acomin' up this aways?" asked Jim, firmly.

"He sez as how he heerd thet you was agoin' to bring a pack o' boys along up to the Eagles; p'raps it kim in a letter he hed from somebody, I don't know jest how thet mout be; but he seemed to know it, all right, Jim. Sez he to me, 'Hen, ef ye happens to run acrost thet thar measly little skunk what sails by the name o' Jim Hasty, jest you tell him fur me thet if he dares to put his foot up hyar in _my_ deestrick, I'm bound to pin his ears to a tree, and leave 'em thar to give him a lesson.' An' Jim, I guess from the look he had on thet black face ob his'n when he says thet, Cale meant it, every blessed word. And if 'twas me, I'd feel like turnin' back, to take my people another way."

Thad fixed his eyes on Jim's face to see how the shorter guide took it.

He realized that Jim was at least no coward, even though he might fear the wrath of such a forest bully as the ex-logger, and present lawless poacher Cale Martin; for he had shut his teeth hard together, and there was a grim expression on his face, as if he did not mean to knuckle under to any such base threat as that.

CHAPTER III.

THE MAKER OF FIRES.

"How about that, Jim; must we turn around, and go back, just because this feller that thinks he owns the whole north of Maine, says so?"

asked Giraffe; who was really a fearless sort of lad, and could not bear to be ordered around by a bully.

Jim was looking a little "peaked," nor could Thad blame him, after hearing what a terror this Caleb Martin had been in the community for years; and how even the officers of the law had never as yet dared arrest him, even though there were rewards out for each one of the three men.

"Naw, we don't turn back, if I knows it," said Jim, doggedly.

"Bully for you, Jim!" exclaimed Step Hen, eagerly. "There's eight of us, all told, in the party, and I think for my part that it's a pretty howd'yedo now if we can't stand up for our rights against just three cowards. I call them that because all bullies are, when you come right down to it. My father says so; and I've seen it among the boys in school."

"Yes, Jim," remarked b.u.mpus, with a grand air, though he immediately made a grimace, as a quick movement gave his sore shoulder a wrench; "we're going to stand by you, through thick and thin, ain't we, fellers?"

"Eight guns in the crowd!" remarked Davy Jones with an air of confidence. "Sure we ought to hold the fort, and then some, if deadly weapons count for anything up here, and I'm told they do. P'raps, instead of pinning your ears to a tree, Jim, this same Mister Cale'll consent to walk back with us, and give himself up to a game warden of the great and glorious State of Maine. We mustn't forget that we're all sworn-in officers of the said State, and bound to a.s.sist any game warden who is trying to do his duty, and earn his salary."

Presently the other guide said good-bye, and turning his canoe down-stream, shot away with the current; while the scouts headed up further toward the wilderness that lay around the country of the Eagle chain of lakes, close to the northern border of the State.

They landed presently to have a bite at noon. Thad took advantage of the opportunity to look at b.u.mpus' shoulder. As he antic.i.p.ated, he found that there was quite an ugly black-and-blue bruise there, which would cause the boy considerable pain for several days; though he declared that nothing was going to keep him from practicing with his new gun, which seemed like a toy in the hands of a child.

"I'm sure you could not have held the b.u.t.t close against your shoulder when you fired," Thad ventured, as his opinion.

"That's just what," admitted the other, with a sigh. "Know better next time, though, Thad; and thank you for making it feel easier. But I wish I'd got that bear. How fine it would be to eat steak from a big bear I'd killed with the first shot from my new gun."

"Make that plural, b.u.mpus, for you fired _both_ barrels, remember,"

laughed Thad.

They were soon on the move again, and pus.h.i.+ng steadily up against the current of the Little Machias. An hour or two pa.s.sed. The air was not nipping cold at this time of the day; but as the season was now considerably advanced they expected to meet with considerable frost, and even some ice, before coming back once more to the home town.

Lest the reader who has not made the acquaintance of the Boy Scouts in the previous volume, should think it strange that these six lads were able to be away from their school duties for such a length of time at this season of the year, it may be best to enter a little explanation right here.

An unfortunate epidemic of contagious sickness had broken out in Cranford, and as a number of the scholars of the school were affected, the trustees had reluctantly decided that the session between early Fall and New Years must be abandoned. If all were well at the later date, after the usual holidays, school would be resumed. But the health of the community demanded that the boys and girls be separated for the time being.

Just then Thad's guardian, a genial old man who was known far and wide as "Daddy," Brewster, found that he had urgent need of communicating with a gentleman by the name of Carson, who had recently gone up into Maine on his annual moose hunt in the big game country. As he might not come out before January, and the necessity of giving him certain doc.u.ments was great, Thad had been asked to make the trip.

They had long been counting on a chance to visit the home country of their Maine fellow scout, Allan Hollister; and most of the scouts eagerly seized on this opportunity to carry out the project, though two of the patrol were unable to be along.

And so they were now in a condition to thoroughly enjoy the outing, since Thad had carried out his mission, and given the papers into the keeping of Mr. Carson; receiving a message in return which he had wired to the old gentleman when in touch with a telegraph station.

Thad himself had believed that there was not the slightest cloud along the horizon; and now that this Cale Martin business had cropped up, he began to realize that after all it might not be such clear sailing as they had figured on.

Still, Thad was not the one to borrow trouble, though ready to grapple with it in any shape or manner, once it found them out.

They camped early on that night, because all of them were a little tired; and the location on the sh.o.r.e looked especially fine.

"Hey, look at what Giraffe's going to do!" exclaimed b.u.mpus, after they had carried part of their things ash.o.r.e, and were busily engaged in putting up the two big tents supplied by Jim Hasty from his camp stores, such as all Maine guides delight to possess.

"Why, ain't it a part of my business to start the fire every time?"

demanded the party in question, who was on his knees; "didn't Thad promise me that job if I'd keep on being careful about startin' fires every-which-way? I ain't had a blessed match on my person since I gave that promise, have I, Thad? And what's wrong about my getting the blaze in my own way, tell me that, b.u.mpus?"

"But we want supper, and we don't mean to sit around here an hour or two, just watchin' you tinker with that silly old bow and stick, twirling away like you had to saw through to China. How about that, Thad?" and b.u.mpus turned appealingly toward the patrol leader, well knowing that whatever he said would go.

"b.u.mpus is right, Giraffe," the other said, kindly but firmly. "You're welcome to spend all the time you want with that contraption, after you've started our cooking fire; but it wouldn't be fair to hold up the whole bunch just to please yourself. Your own good sense tells you that, Giraffe."

Giraffe, of course, had to appear to be convinced.

"Just when I had a new scheme in my head, too, that I just know would have made the fire come," he grumbled, as he hung the little bow on a twig of a tree near by, and produced flint and steel, and a little bag in which he kept tinder, in the shape of tiny shavings which he was always preparing at odd moments; "and before I get another chance to try it, I'll have forgotten the combination, sure. But that's always the way it goes; though don't you dare think b.u.mpus Hawtree, that I'm going to give up so easy. I'll fight it out this way if it takes all winter."

Being an adept with the flint and steel, Giraffe quickly had his fire started.

"And that's the way it'll be after I've just got that one little snag pa.s.sed," he took occasion to remark, for the benefit of the fat scout, who was hovering near by. "Everything's easy as tumbling off a log, once you know how. P'raps you remember what a time you had learnin' to ride a bike; and yet now you can cut around corners, and even stand on the saddle while she's going. Well, you wait and see my smoke."

"Huh! that's all I ever will see, I'm afraid," chuckled b.u.mpus.

But presently Giraffe managed to drift into a more amiable humor. That was when the coffee pot was bubbling on the fire, sending out its cheery aroma; and the last of the eggs they had managed to buy from a potato grower on the bank of the Aroostook were sizzling in the two large frying-pans.

Most boys possess hearty appet.i.tes, and Giraffe was no exception to the rule. Indeed, like most lean fellows, he had an enormous stowage capacity somewhere about him, and could dispose of more food on occasion than any two of his mates. b.u.mpus always declared he had hollow legs, and used them for receptacles, when other places were filled to overflowing. But not one of the scouts could remember the time when Giraffe complained of having eaten too much. Like the crowded street car, there was always room for more.

"Wish we'd struck this section of country an hour or two before dark,"

b.u.mpus ventured to remark, complacently, as he sat there with his fat legs doubled under him, tailor-fas.h.i.+on and munching at the crackers and cheese he had made a sandwich out of.

"For why?" asked Giraffe, looking up.

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The Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods Part 2 summary

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