DAYS OF REAL SPORT
"You're dead sure nothing was taken, are you, Frank?" Bluff demanded
first of all, his suspicions running in the direction of a sneak
thief.
"We looked, but couldn't find the first trace of anything having been
stolen," he was assured. "Things seemed knocked around a bit, and the
door was ajar, though we left it tightly closed, but that was all."
"It surely is a deep mystery," admitted Jerry, with a puzzled
expression on his face. Jerry had never been remarkably clever at
finding out hidden things, and the whiff of a mystery generally
confused him.
"I'd be inclined to think it must have been some sort of animal,"
ventured Bluff, "only you feel certain you fastened the door, so a dog
or a wildcat couldn't get inside."
"Besides," spoke up Will, "if it had been any sort of animal bent on
getting something to eat, wouldn't we see signs of his nosing around
in the cabin?"
"That's a fact," admitted Bluff, immediately, "there's that shank of
our ham lying right on the table where we left it. I said we'd boil
the same the first chance we got, so as to get the pickings. Any dog
would have pulled that on to the floor and gnawed at it."
"Oh, well, what's the use guessing when we haven't got a single clue
to go on?" remarked Jerry. "Let's change the subject and talk of
something pleasant."
"One thing I know," said Will, with a happy smile.
"Then tell us, won't you?" asked Bluff.
"I'm going to set my little trap again to-night for Br'er 'Coon,"
continued the enthusiastic amateur photographer.
"Huh! wonder what you'll spot next time?" observed Bluff. "You nailed
an old fellow that you tell us is Aaron Dennison himself. I hope the
next crack won't give us a picture of the Old Nick himself, horns,
split hoofs, forked tail and all! Ugh!"
"Well," muttered Jerry, "seems to me when you set one of those
flashlight traps right in the woods of nights you never can tell what
kind of a job you're going to get away with."
Will laughed as though amused.
"Why," he went on to say, "don't you understand that's part of the
game? The uncertainty of the thing adds to the charm. You never do
know exactly what you're going to strike."
"Well," Jerry continued, shaking his head in a contrary fashion as
though far from convinced, "I never did take much to the grab-bag
business--putting your hand in, and groping around to pull out a prize
or a blank."
"Ditto here, Jerry," spoke up Bluff; "I prefer to know what I'm trying
for, and then chasing after it for all I'm worth."
"Oh, well, what's the use of talking?" Will concluded. "Many men, many
minds. It's a mighty good thing everybody doesn't think alike. Variety
is the spice of life, they say. But excuse me, fellows; I've got some
work to do developing the snaps I took yesterday."
That was the last they saw of Will for some time. Once he buried
himself in that fascinating photographic labor to which he was devoted
heart and soul, it required some strong incentive such as a summons to
dinner, to make him break away.
After noon had come and gone, the boys settled down into something
like the old life. Less was said about events that had occurred, while
new plans were being broached for the immediate future.
Having secured some live bait with a little seine made of mosquito
netting, Bluff and Frank tried the fishing, using the boat to reach
what seemed to be good ground. A hidden ledge of rock ran from the
point, and Frank judged that where the water was something like ten
feet deep there ought to be bass.
His figuring proved to be correct, for they were soon busily engaged
in playing the fish that struck the live minnows. At times the work
became even exciting, as a larger and more gamy fish took hold.
Jerry, who also liked to fish, watched the sport from the shore and
envied those who were thus engaged. The next time he was asked by
Bluff to accompany him in the boat Jerry's answer would be of a
different nature. This was a time when his laziness cost him dearly,
he admitted to himself, as he watched Bluff lift a struggling bass
into the boat, and then heard him give a yell of triumph.
Will had long since finished developing the films, and all they had
heard him say with reference to them was that they seemed to have
turned out "pretty fair."
About three o'clock in the afternoon, however, he set to work and
printed a lot of proofs by the aid of the sun which aroused the
interest and admiration of the other three.
Frank in particular was delighted to find they would have such
splendid views by which to remember their singular adventure. The one
of "Old Aaron and His Rod," as Will designated it, was perfectly clear
and reflected considerable credit on the artist who had snatched it
off on the spur of the moment.
Over the proof that showed the strange ledge of rock under which the
two storm-bound fugitives had passed the night, Bluff and Jerry
lingered longest. There seemed to be some peculiar fascination about
the picture that held their attention.
"Some time soon, Frank," said Bluff, "we must go up there and take a
look into that cave under the rock. It was a bright dodge on your part
to notice the formation of the ground in passing, and then remember it
right away when the necessity arose for shelter from the rain, wind
and lightning."
"Which only shows," remarked Will, shaking a warning finger at Bluff,
"that you ought to keep your eyes about you every minute of time when
you're tramping through a woodsy country. You never know the second
you'll be called on to remember something. And also let me say that
it's best to have along with you a chum who never gets left, no matter
what happens."
Even Frank had to join in the general laugh that greeted this wise
sally.
"My advice to you all is, never depend on anybody else to pull your
chestnuts out of the fire, but learn to do things for yourself," was
all the remark Frank would allow himself to make.
They had fresh fish for supper that evening, and such fish! Bluff
himself cooked them, and of late he had proven himself to be a most
excellent hand at getting up a meal.
His method, of course, was the usual camp way of using fat salt pork
melted down in the pan until it was sizzling hot; then placing in the
fish, nicely covered with cracker crumbs, and allowing the fish to
become browned all over, as well as fairly crisp before pronouncing
them done.
Every one enjoyed them, and it was voted unanimously that fish should
form one of the staple dishes of their stay in camp at Cabin Point.
Judging from the game qualities of the bass, there would be no lack of
candidates for the honor of pulling them in. Even Will, who did not as
a rule profess to be much of a sportsman, declared he believed he
would like to test that new "pole" which his father had given him for
Christmas; at which Bluff groaned, and immediately threw up his hands
in affected horror, exclaiming:
"Pole! For goodness' sake, Will, never call that dandy lancewood rod
by such a degrading name again. The farmer's boy cuts a pole from the
bushes, or buys a fifteen-foot one at the grocery store, the kind that
comes up from the Louisiana swamp districts. A true sportsman carries
a jointed _rod_--spell it out, r-o-d. Why, I'd turn red to the roots
of my hair if ever you said 'pole' in the presence of real disciples
of Isaac Walton."
"Oh, well, 'rod,' if you prefer it that way," chuckled Will. "But no
matter what you call it, the farmer boy's pole is generally the one
that knocks the persimmons down."
"That taffy about the genuine sportsman buying his fish from the
barefooted farmer's boy is as old as the hills," retorted Bluff.
"Maybe it's been true in some cases; but I've seen the time when the
man with the fly tackle, and who knew how to use it, got all the fish,
while the barefooted boy could only look on."
"There!" exclaimed Frank with a laugh, "I knew the worm would turn
some day. Up to now there's been no champion for the man with the
fancy fly rod. It was the boy who used the humble worm who did all
the business. He'll have to take a back seat after this when our chum
Bluff is around."
No one knew whether the flashlight did its duty on that particular
night or not--that is until Will hurried out early in the morning and
brought his camera in.
He had cleverly arranged it so that when the cord was pulled that set
the cartridge off it also caused the time-exposure arrangement on the
camera to work. Thus for perhaps several seconds the delicate film was
exposed, after which the action caused it to become once more securely
hidden from the light. In this way it was not necessary for the
operator to get out to his camera before daylight came in order to
save his night's work.
All of them had slept soundly. If Frank did happen to arouse several
times during the night he saw and heard nothing to indicate that there
were any animals prowling around in the vicinity of the camp.
Will knew, however, that his trap had worked, for the bait was gone,
the cord pulled taut, and he could even detect traces of sharp claws
around the spot.
It turned out that he had managed to secure a splendid snapshot of the
big fellow boasting the striped tail; indeed, the picture was bound
to be one of the most prized in all his collection.
That day also passed with nothing unusual happening. The campers
enjoyed every hour of it, for there always appeared to be a variety of
things awaiting their attention, and all of the boys were full of
vigor.
Bluff noticed that it had gradually grown quite warm, after the
delightful cool spell following the big storm.
"And a hot wave means another rattler, I should guess," he declared
when discussing the weather with his comrades.
Bluff had of late shown a disposition to prove himself somewhat of a
weather prophet. He studied the various conditions of the sky, noted
the mottled clouds that people used to say denoted rain, consulted
calendars he had brought along that explained the phases of the moon,
and every little while solemnly announced that according to all the
signs such and such a condition of weather was going to follow.
It was on the second morning that Bluff outlined his plan. Waiting
until they had all eaten the excellent breakfast which he himself had
prepared, and until he had reason to believe Frank must be in an
especially good humor, Bluff spoke up.
"Frank, why not all of us go up to that rock ledge to-day before the
weather takes a turn for the worse? How about it, Jerry; are you game
for a tramp?"
"Every time," came the immediate response; "and as you say, if we're
going to have a look in at that queer section of the country, to-day's
as good a time as any."
To the delight of both boys, Frank offered no objection. In fact, he
himself felt rather inclined to do a little more exploring, for the
country in that region interested him deeply. And so presently the
four left their cabin camp to plunge into the woods.