The Bobbsey Twins at Cedar Camp Part 27

"Not if we want to go to Mrs. Bimby's," Freddie answered. "We have to get out and walk some more. And it's snowing again, too."

Whether it was or not, the children could not be quite certain, for the wind was blowing, and if the flakes were not falling from the sky they were blowing up off the ground.

It was almost the same, anyhow, for there was a fine shower of the cold, white flakes in the air, and it was much more cosy and warm under the tree than out in the open.

"Let's stay here a little longer," begged Flossie. "Rover likes it here, don't you?" she asked, as she reached out her hand and patted the s.h.a.ggy back of the dog.

And from the manner in which Rover thumped his tail on the ground you could tell that he did, indeed, like to be with the little Bobbsey twins under the shelter of the tree.

"I know what we can do," said Freddie, after thinking a moment. "I know what we can do to have some fun!"

"What?" asked Flossie, always ready for anything of this sort.

"We'll throw a lot of these pine cones outside, and Rover will chase after 'em and bring 'em back," went on Freddie. "He likes to run out in the snow. And after we play that awhile maybe it will be nicer outside."

"All right," agreed Flossie. "We'll throw pine cones."

There were many of these on the pine-needle covered ground beneath the sheltering tree. The cones were really the cl.u.s.ters of seeds from the tree, and they had become hard and dry so they made excellent things to throw for a dog to bring back.

Rover liked to race after sticks when thrown by the children, and the pine cones were ever so much better than sticks. There were so many of them, too.

"I'll throw first, and then it will be your turn, Flossie," Freddie said. "Here, Rover!" he called to the dog, as he picked up several of the cones.

Always ready for a lark of this sort, Rover leaped to his feet and stood at "attention." Freddie bent aside some of the branches and tossed a pine cone out of the opening.

It fell in a bank of snow some distance away, for Freddie was a good thrower for a little boy. And the pine cone, being light, did not sink down in the snow as a stone would have done.

"Bow-wow!" barked Rover, as he dashed out after the pine cone.

That was his way of saying he would bring it back as quickly as he could. And as Rover rushed from under the little green tent of the pine tree Flossie gave a cry of surprise.

"What's the matter?" asked Freddie, turning around to look at his sister.

"Rover knocked me down!" she answered with a laugh, and, surely enough, there she was sprawling on the brown pine needles which covered the ground under the tree. "He just bunked into me and knocked me over!"

Rover was not used to playing with children, you see, and he was a bit rough. But he didn't mean to be.

Flossie sat up, still laughing, for she was not in the least hurt, and by this time Rover had brought back the pine cone that Freddie had tossed out.

"Good dog, Rover!" cried Freddie, patting the animal as he laid down the cone and wagged his tail. "Now it's your turn to throw one, Flossie,"

Freddie said.

"All right," Flossie answered. "But look out he doesn't knock you down, Freddie."

"I'm looking out!" Freddie said, and he quickly moved over to one side of the s.p.a.ce under the tree, while Flossie threw out her cone.

Flossie was not quite so good a thrower of sticks, stones, or pine cones as was her brother. But she did pretty well. Though her cone did not go as far as Freddie's had, it sank farther down into the snow. Maybe the cone was a heavier one, or it may have fallen in a softer place in the snow. Anyhow it went quite deep into a drift and Rover had to dig with his forepaws to get it so he could take it in his mouth.

"Oh, look at him!" cried Flossie, as the dog, digging away, made the snow fly in a shower back of him. "He's like a snowplow on the railroad!"

Once, in a big storm, Flossie and Freddie had seen the railroad snowplow, pushed by two locomotives, cut through a high drift. And the way Rover scattered the snow made the little girl think of the plow.

"Bring it here, Rover!" cried Freddie, for it would be his turn next to throw a cone.

"Bow-wow!" barked the dog, and then, with a final dive into the drift, he got the brown cone in his mouth and came racing back with it. Covered with snow as he was, he crawled under the shelter to be petted and talked kindly to by Freddie and Flossie.

Then, just as he probably did when he came out of the water in the summer time, Rover gave himself a shake, to get rid of the snowflakes.

"Oh! Oh!" laughed Flossie, holding her hands over her face. "Stop it, Rover! You're getting me all snow!"

But Rover kept it up until he had got off all the snow, and then he raced out again after more cones as the children threw them.

If Bert Bobbsey could have known where his little sister and brother were, with brave old Rover beside them, I am sure he would have wished to join them. For Bert, about this time, was running away from the wildcat that had suddenly burst through the bushes.

"You're not going to get me!" said Bert to himself, as he clutched his package of lunch and raced on as well as he could.

The pain in his leg bothered him, but he was not going to stop for a thing like that and let a wildcat maul him. On he ran through the snow, taking the easiest path he could find. He looked back over his shoulder once or twice, to find the wildcat bounding lightly along after him.

And after he had looked back and had seen the size of the animal and noticed that there was only one, somehow or other Bert became braver, and he had an idea that perhaps he might drive this beast away.

Wildcats, or bobcats as they are sometimes called, being also known as the bay lynx, are not as large as a good-sized dog. They weigh about thirty pounds, and though they have sharp teeth and claws they very seldom attack persons. Only when they are disturbed, or fear that someone is going to harm their little ones or take away their food, do bobcats run after persons.

And this one must have thought Bert was going to do it some harm, for the animal certainly chased the lad.

"Ho!" said Bert to himself, as he looked back, "you're not so big! Maybe you have got sharp teeth and claws, but if you don't get near me you can't hurt me! I'm going to make you go back!"

Bert had a sudden idea of how he might do this--with s...o...b..ll bullets.

All about him was snow--piles of it--and Bert had often taken part in s...o...b..ll fights at home. He was a good thrower, and once he had s...o...b..lled a savage dog that had run at Flossie and Freddie and had caused the animal to run yelping away.

"I'm going to s...o...b..ll this wildcat!" decided Bert.

He ran on a little farther until he came to a small clearing where the trees stood in an irregular ring around an open place. There Bert decided to make a stand and see if he could not drive the chasing wildcat away.

"And if he won't go, and comes after me," thought Bert, "I can climb a tree."

He did not know, or else had forgotten, that wildcats themselves are very good tree-climbers.

Reaching the other side of the clearing, Bert laid his package of lunch down on a firm place in the snow, and then rapidly began to make some hard, round b.a.l.l.s. He packed them with all his might between his mittened hands, for he knew a soft s...o...b..ll would not be of much use against a wildcat.

He had been some distance ahead of the animal, and when it ran up to the edge of the clearing Bert had several s...o...b..a.l.l.s ready.

"Come on now! See how you like that!" cried the boy. He threw one s...o...b..ll "bullet," but he was so excited that it went high over the head of the bobcat. The next one struck in the snow at the feet of the animal. But the third one hit it right on the nose!

"Good shot!" cried Bert.

The wildcat uttered a snarl and a growl, and stopped for a moment.

Perhaps it had never before chased anyone who threw s...o...b..a.l.l.s.