A CLOSE CALL
"Hold 'em! hold 'em!" whooped William, as he found himself mixed up in
the canvas of the tent which had fallen in a heap; for evidently he was
of the opinion that all this racket must be caused by those vindictive
workers of evil, Ted Slavin and his crowd.
"Look to your tent pins, fellows!" shouted Paul, lustily, as he hurried
around to lend what assistance lay in his power.
He had little fear about his own tent, understanding just how it had
been put up. But all of the scouts were not so well versed in the little
tricks known to those who spend much time under canvas; and there was a
chance that others would share the sad fate that had already befallen
poor William.
Then there was a great scurrying to and fro. As the storm broke the boys
shuddered and held on to the ropes for dear life, regardless of the fact
that they were clad only in pajamas, which were soon rain soaked.
"Never mind that little thing, fellows," sang out the care-free
Bobolink; "because you know we can get plenty of dry clothes after she's
over; but if you let the tents blow away, where, oh! where do we come
in? Hold hard, everybody; here comes another bluff at us. Wow! get a
grip on my legs, will you? I'm agoin' to fly, that's what!"
But some of his mates held on doggedly, and Bobolink consented to remain
on earth a while longer. As long as it lasted it was one of the greatest
short storms most of the scouts could remember ever experiencing. But
then, up to now, they had been pretty much in the habit of viewing such
convulsions of nature from the shelter of a snug harbor in the shape of
a home window; and things looked vastly different when the same Summer
gale was met, with tents threatening to carry away, and the trees
groaning in the furious wind.
"She's over!" cried Jack, at last, when the storm seemed to come to a
halt almost as suddenly as it had broken.
No one was sorry. Repairs were quickly undertaken, after the boys had
donned some dry clothes; for the air was chilly after the rain, and
being soaked to the skin they found themselves shivering.
William had managed to crawl out from under his tent, with the help of
others. He had several bumps to prove what a close call it had been. The
others could not lose a chance to poke fun at him; for it was not often
the opportunity came when the fun-maker of the troop could be caught
napping.
"Next time, get a move on you, old slow poke!" one advised, when William
ventured to complain that it was mean in their deserting him to his
fate.
"Yes, Mr. Tortoise, you'll have to learn how to crawl better than that,
if you expect to stay with this fast crowd," declared Tom Betts.
"But every time I started to get out," William declared, ruefully,
"somebody would stick his foot in my face, and climb all over me. Then
the blessed thing dropped flat, and left me swimming all alone. Of
course I thought it was some more of Ted's fine sport, and I hoped you
chaps were flagging 'em. After that the water came in on me. Ugh!"
"What did you think then, old molasses in Winter?" asked Bobolink;
shaking the last of the water out of his precious bugle, and carefully
wiping its brass mouthpiece with his handkerchief.
"Why," said William, grinning, "at first I thought the river had
overflowed its banks, and was going to carry me all the way down to
Stanhope. Then I heard the wind and the thunder, when it struck me
there was something of a storm. So I just laid still; for I knew you
fellows wouldn't want me bothering around while you worked like fun to
hold the rest of the tents from going by the board."
"Listen to him, would you, Paul?" exclaimed one of the others. "He knew
all along we were hard pushed to hold out, and yet he just snuggled
there, and wouldn't give a helping hand. What kind of a scout are you,
anyway, William?"
"Well," returned the accused one, in his drawling way, "I didn't want to
cut a hole in the canvas, you see; and I couldn't get out any other way.
Come to think of it, I don't generally carry my knife around in my
pajamas, like some fellows do bugles, and such trash."
"Rats!" flashed back Bobolink, disdainfully, "you're just jealous of my
noble calling, that's all."
"He's always calling, ain't he, fellows?" asked William. "I expect to
see him sit up in his sleep some night, and scare us half out of our
lives by tooting away to beat the band. I'm going to get up a petition
that the old horn be muzzled every night before we go to our little beds
on the hemlock browse."
A fire was, after some little trouble, started. Paul had been wise
enough to keep some fine kindling in his tent for just such an
emergency. Even had it been otherwise he would have known just how to
get at the heart of a dead tree, which would yield the necessary dry
wood to make a beginning. Such hunter's tricks were well known to Paul,
likewise to Wallace; and before this tour came to an end most of the
others would have picked up scores of such bits of knowledge, likely to
be of use to them whenever they chanced to be in the great woods.
The sky was clear again long before the last boy had concluded that it
was safe to crawl into his tent once more, and try to sleep.
And whoever happened to be on guard, kept the fire going throughout the
remainder of that eventful night.
No further adventure broke upon their heads, and in good time dawn
appeared in the eastern sky. There was much merriment as the boys went
for a morning dip in the waters of the Bushkill. Many jokes were made
about the new order of things in camp that necessitated a shower-bath at
midnight.
"Be careful, fellows," Paul admonished, as he saw that most of the
scouts were bent on trying the water of the rapid little stream.
"There's a bad current here, and if it gets hold of you grab a rock and
yell. To be dashed down there wouldn't be the nicest thing going."
Jack agreed to keep an eye on the clump, for Paul had duties in camp
just then. He expected to take a dip himself a little later on.
Hardly had ten minutes passed before he heard a loud series of shouts.
"Hold hard, Tom! Make a chain there, you fellows, and get him before he
lets go! Hurry up, can't you?"
It was Jack Stormways shouting these words. Paul knew instantly that
some one must have been caught by the current, and was in danger of
being dragged along down the stream to where it dashed wildly against
the rocks.
The young patrol leader lost not an instant. Snatching up a rope that
happened to lie handy, he rushed for the bank of the river.
Instinct caused him to head for a point below where Jack was standing,
trying to reach some object with a long pole he handled awkwardly. Even
in that thrilling moment Paul could think, and was able to understand
that the ever flowing current must sweep any helpless swimmer past
Jack's position in quick order.
As he ran Paul was trying to fashion a loop in the end of the rope. Had
he not been perfectly calm he could never have succeeded in doing this
difficult feat; but when he reached the bank he had managed to
accomplish it.
What he saw was a tumble of water, which was almost covered with foam.
Somewhere in this poor Tom Betts must be floating, churned back and
forth by the suction of the current that was striving to escape from the
whirl.
Jack had evidently lost sight of the drowning lad completely, for he was
even then running toward Paul, his face as white as chalk.
There! Paul had just a fleeting glimpse of the boy in the foamy water.
He had thrust one arm up rather feebly, as though almost gone. Perhaps
his head had come in contact with a rock while he was swimming, and this
had dazed him; for ordinarily Tom Betts was a clever swimmer.
Paul waited for no more. He was down the bank like a flash, and wading
into the water, regardless of clothes. What did it matter about his
getting wet, when a precious human life was in peril.
Again he caught a glimpse of the boy's arm amid all that spud and foam.
But the first attempt to throw the loop of his rope over it resulted in
failure.
Paul instantly changed his tactics. Reversing the coil, he cast the loop
over a friendly stump that chanced to be at hand; then, gripping the
rope in his hand, he boldly cast himself into the midst of that whirl of
froth and spinning water.
Fortune was kind, for almost immediately he came in contact with the
unconscious lad, and was able to throw an arm about him. The fierce
stream tried in vain to drag him down into other basins below; but Paul
had his hand twisted in the coils of that rope, and would not let go.
"Hold on, Paul; we'll pull you in!" shouted Jack on the bank, as he
clutched the lifeline and began to exert his full strength.
"Hurrah! Paul's got him! It's all right!" whooped others, as they lent a
hand.
Of course Paul was quickly dragged into shallow water, where willing
hands relieved him of his burden. Tom looked dreadful, being deathly
white, and very limp. But Paul could not believe the boy had been under
the water long enough to be drowned.
Immediately he had the others bring the senseless boy up to the camp,
where he was placed on his chest. Kneeling down, with one leg on either
side, Paul placed his palms on Tom's back just where the small ribs
could be felt. Then by leaning forward, and pressing downward, he forced
the air and water from the lungs of the patient; relaxing the movement
allowed air to creep in a little, when the operation was repeated time
and time again.
Sometimes it may take an hour to make this artificial respiration
successful; so that it is not wise to desist until every hope is gone.
Many a person has been saved after it seemed next to a miracle that
life might be restored.
With Tom it was not a difficult problem. He had been stunned by the blow
received in his contact with the rock, and hence little water had
entered his lungs.
In five minutes he was showing signs of coming to; his arms, extended
above his head while this process of pumping air into him was being
conducted, twitched and moved; then he groaned, and finally made a move
as if he wanted to get up.
Ten minutes after being taken from the water he was sitting up, and
asking what all the fuss was about.
Tom afterwards confessed to a dim recollection of feeling something
hitting him a dull blow in the head; after that he knew nothing more
until he opened his eyes to see his mates clustered around, and hear
them give lusty cheers.
But he heard how Paul had acted so wisely, and while Tom was a fellow
not much given to words, at the first opportunity he thanked his friend
with tears in his eyes; for he was thinking of a fond mother at home,
and what a blow she must have received had he been drowned.
The boys cared little about indulging themselves in any more bathing in
that treacherous portion of the fast-running Bushkill. Down around
Stanhope they understood its various moods; but up in this Rattlesnake
Mountain district it was quite a different thing.
Breakfast appealed more to them, and they went at it with a will. Tom
was exempt from any menial labor on that morning. Warmly dressed, and
placed close to the roaring fire, he watched his chums work, and thought
what a splendid thing it was he had not been alone at the time the
accident happened.
And Paul was more than glad it turned out so well. Had a tragedy come to
pass, their joyous outing must have met with a sudden halt, and the
return journey to Stanhope would have been a sad one indeed.
"What's the programme for to-day?" asked Jack, as they all sat around,
eating the fine breakfast the patrol cooks had served.
"Another hike, and this time up the mountain," returned Paul. "It will
be our last for a while, at least, for when we get settled in another
camp I hope to stay there until our scoutmaster arrives."
"And when do you look for Mr. Gordon, Paul?" queried Wallace, who seemed
to have lost his appetite after seeing how near a companion had come to
a terrible death.
"Any hour after this. He said he would use my wheel in coming up here,
so as to make better time. I'll be glad when he comes," and Paul gave a
sigh as he glanced around at the score of boyish faces turned toward
him; to let his gaze rest finally on that of genial Tom Betts, whom he
had known pretty much all his life.
Nor indeed could Paul be blamed for wishing to pass the responsibility
on to broader shoulders, more capable of bearing it. He was only a boy,
and it seemed to him that since he had been placed in charge of this
expedition, with all its attendant cares and trials, his spirit had been
almost crushed.
But the camp was broken, and with much laughter the scouts began to
climb the side of mysterious old Rattlesnake Mountain, of course Paul
managed to forget most of his troubles, and his merriment rang out as
loud as that of any other.
So, boosting and pulling at old Dobbin, they made the ascent by slow
degrees, and by noon had reached a point that afforded them a grand view
of the country away off toward the south, the east and the west; but it
was toward the first named region that many a wishful look was given,
for did not Stanhope lie yonder--and home?