AN UNEXPECTED APPEAL
The fish were what Bluff called "gilt-edged." Perhaps he was a little
prejudiced in the matter, because he had had a share in capturing the
gamy fighters. But there was not a dissenting voice when Jerry moved
that they pronounce the finny denizens of the big lake unequalled for
their many fine qualities.
That evening, as they sat around taking things easy, for it was rather
warm and the fire not needed, the conversation ranged over a wide
field. Many events of the past were recalled, one thing seeming to
lead to another.
Will was fairly bubbling over with joy on account of his recent streak
of good luck. He counted the promised safe return of those precious
films as a glorious thing.
"Why shouldn't I feel that way?" he expostulated, when Bluff took him
to task for referring to the matter so frequently. "Think of our great
trip up into the Maine wilderness and the many strange things we saw
there," he went on, referring to matters already related in "The
Outdoor Chums in the Big Woods." "My pictures took a prize, remember;
and besides they recall the happy days we spent up there last fall."
"Will is right," declared Frank; "and I'm almost as glad as he is over
the recovery of his property; because I know he's got some sort of
scheme in his mind to enlarge some of those same pictures. It couldn't
easily be done with the negatives lost."
"Before we shake the dust of this section from our feet," continued
the ardent photographer, "I mean to explore every rod of territory
around here."
"Looking for new and interesting sights, of course?" quizzed Bluff.
"Yes, because you never do know at what minute you may run smack up
against the most wonderful picture going," pursued Will. "That's one
reason I'm so keen about traveling over new ground. There's always a
chance ahead of you."
"Well, right here we're bounded on one hand by the big water, which
cuts off about half your chances," suggested Jerry.
"Some time or other you might go to the lake shore village," said
Bluff; "because if I'm any judge of things you'd find some remarkable
characters there to snap off."
"You've already got pictures of old Aaron and his hermit shell; one of
the latter being a cracking good snap of the house. How did the other
view turn out, Will?"
Again that quick look of intelligence passed between Frank and Will.
They were still of the opinion that for the present there was no
necessity for the other boys to know about the strange white face in
the barred window of the hermit's lonely home.
"Oh! it doesn't seem to be quite as clear as the one you saw," Will
explained. "The sunlight didn't strike as well, and there are too many
shadows. Some time or other when I think of it I'll take off a lighter
print, which may improve the looks of the thing."
Not having the least suspicion there could be anything singular
connected with that second view of the hermit's house, Bluff did not
pursue the subject any further.
Of course Will had his flashlight working again. In roaming around he
had found traces of a sly fox that made its home amidst some rocks,
and Will, after more or less hard study, believed he could see the
regular track taken by clever Reynard in coming and going.
"There's one thing sure," remarked Will, proudly, when relating how he
had investigated, and figured, and found out many things in connection
with that particular little animal, "this hunting with a camera
certainly does force a fellow to become acquainted with the habits of
every kind of bird and animal."
"There's no doubt about that, Will," Frank immediately assented; "and
I warrant right now you're in closer touch with Nature ten times over
than you'd have been if you hadn't taken up this fad or hobby."
"I should say so!" continued the enthusiast, his face kindling with
earnestness. "Why, before that I never bothered my head much about the
habits of foxes, 'coons, squirrels, minks, bobcats, or anything that
had its hiding-place in the woods or in burrows under the rocks. But
now I'm forever trying to learn new things about the way they live,
and how they get their food."
"Of course I can understand that," admitted Jerry; "us fellows who
love to hunt wild game have to know a lot about their habits. It's the
same if you go after the wily black bass--if you're green about his
ways you can fish till you drop and never get a single bite."
"I've had something to do with both kinds of sport," said Frank,
seriously; "and I want to say right here that I certainly believe
hunting with a camera beats the gun business all hollow. You get in
closer touch with the little animals when you're only trying to take
their pictures, and not harm them. I warrant now Will often counts
them as his friends, and that they show little fear of him."
That launched the camera advocate into a fervent description of many
meetings with his coy subjects, and the tricks he was compelled to
resort to in order to let them understand he meant them no harm.
So the evening passed pleasantly.
There was nothing in the way of a disturbance to break in upon their
sleep. Will had posted his camera trap a full quarter of a mile away,
and even if it worked at any time during the night they would not know
it.
The moon arose about the middle of the night, but none of the boys had
any use for the battered lantern in the sky, since they remained under
the cabin roof until morning broke.
As before, they took a little dip in the cold waters of the lake in
order to get in good trim for a warm day. Then breakfast followed, and
was heartily enjoyed, although with their healthy appetites there was
nothing wonderful about that.
Each of them had laid out plans for the morning.
"We'll give the bass a rest for one day," remarked Bluff; "because if
we make it too common the zest of catching and eating them is apt to
wear away. Besides, I don't believe it's as good a morning for fishing
as yesterday was. Then, we'd have to use that little mosquito netting
seine, and get some more minnows."
"Last but not least," laughingly added Jerry, "the cranky old tub of a
boat leaks again like a sieve, and some of us ought to get busy
patching it up while we have a chance."
"Yes," said Will, who of course knew that the job would never fall to
his share, "I always believe in having everything ready beforehand;
because you never know in what a big hurry it may be needed."
Of course Will had hurried out to where his camera lay long before he
would touch a bite of breakfast; he even gave up the early morning dip
in his anxiety to learn whether the bait had been jerked, and the
camera made to do its duty.
By this time Will had become quite expert, so that there was little
danger of what Bluff, taking his cue from the golfers, would have
called a "foozle."
To see the joy written upon his face when he came hurrying back to
announce almost breathlessly that success had rewarded his efforts,
one might even suspect the boy had never before succeeded in
photographing a sly fox in this manner.
It was a busy morning for all.
Frank rather expected to see Gilbert, but when noon came and the other
had not as yet put in an appearance he decided that he must be
detained for good reasons. Perhaps by another day he would find it
convenient to drop in and see the campers at Cabin Point.
"From the way he talked," Bluff remarked, when at lunch they were
speaking of Mr. Dennison's nephew, "I got the notion that Gilbert
would like to stay over here a spell with us, and enjoy some of our
doings."
"He did say he was fond of camping, and for all we know he may have
been around some up in Michigan or Wisconsin," suggested Jerry.
"Well," added Bluff, a little boastfully, "when it comes to
experiences I reckon the Outdoor Chums don't have to occupy a back
seat! We might relate some things that would make Gilbert sit up and
take notice."
"I think he's the kind of fellow who would enjoy hearing about the
things we've seen and done," Frank told them. "I'm glad now I brought
along my little note-book in which I jotted down many of the things
that have happened since we first got together and formed the 'Rod,
Gun and Camera Club.'"
"Yes, and I'm fond of looking over that journal of yours myself,
Frank," admitted Will. "Of course I didn't have as big a part in a
whole lot of the adventures as the rest of you, but all the same they
belonged to our crowd."
"And then don't forget, Will," continued Frank, "that Mr. Dennison
admitted to us he was fond of photography. Gilbert said as much, too,
when he spoke about having a set of your Maine pictures printed to
show his uncle. You may get on good terms with this singular old man,
and have some mighty pleasant times in his company."
"He looks pretty severe," commented Will, "but then there's a reason
for that, I guess; and once he gets thawed out he'll be a different
sort. Nothing like finding a fellow's pet hobby and working it, to
make him friendly."
None of them thought to go far away during that afternoon. It did not
look very promising, for clouds could be seen hovering along the
horizon, the heat was intense, and all of them agreed that a storm
might creep up.
Their last experience in a storm had been so unpleasant that somehow
they seemed to shrink involuntarily from a repetition so soon. Later
on, when the memory became fainter, they might again take risks, after
the manner of buoyant youth the world over.
Bluff and Jerry were pleased with their work on the boat. They had
taken great pains this time, and felt sure the calking was there to
stay. Still, they contented themselves with planning another fishing
excursion for the coming morning. Bluff had discovered a place where
minnows were very plentiful, and hence they could be assured of a good
haul at any time, with but little exertion.
The day was nearing an end, and there was some talk of getting supper
ready when a cry from Jerry outside the cabin brought the others
hurrying forth.
They found him talking with a small boy who seemed greatly excited,
for his face was peaked and white, and terror could be seen in his
dilated eyes.
Apparently he had hurried in a veritable panic through the forest, for
he had various scratches on his face, and a lump on his forehead
showed where he had struck a stone after tripping over a root or a
vine.
Naturally Frank and the other two were at once filled with curiosity
to know who the boy was, and what had brought him to Cabin Point.
Jerry had already started to question the panting lad, and the other
was trying to explain, although his words came in jerks and disjointed
sentences.
"I'm Sandy Moogs--my dad's a woodchopper--workin' now up yonder 'bout
three miles--tree fell on him--broke his leg, he reckons--in a heap o'
pain--can't hardly crawl--knowed you-uns was at Cabin Point--sent me
to git help--he sez as how he'll bleed to death by mawnin' if he ain't
helped--I hopes as how you'll kim along with me--he's my dad, you
know!"
The four exchanged looks when this pitiful story was unfolded in
gasps. It was a foregone conclusion that they would go, for never had
the Outdoor Chums rejected an appeal for assistance.