BURYING THE HATCHET
Early on the following morning, the boys, accompanied by Yardsley, set
out with a couple of sleds to get Bob Somers' bear.
The carcass was found undisturbed, and the trapper immediately set to
work to skin it, the "cap'n" assisting to the best of his ability.
Yardsley cut up the meat, which the boys then placed upon the sleds.
The clouds were still edged with the tints of sunset when Piper and his
companions arrived, and shortly before dusk three dark figures were
seen slowly approaching, Bowser giving evidence of his presence by his
usual doleful bark.
"Evenin', people!" greeted Billy Musgrove. "Hello, Wackett,--bear
meat? H'm, smells good, don't it? Me an' Tim hasn't eaten nothin' all
day--gittin' ready fur this."
"An' yer done well," said Yardsley. "It's pitch in an' help yerself,
'til natur' cries enough."
Nightfall came, and the fire sent up towering flames and showers of
sparks, illuminating the surroundings with a fitful glare. The feast
was ready.
"An' ter think that Scummers shot a bear," remarked Musgrove,
reflectively, as he sliced off a huge piece of meat; "an' me an' Tim
ain't seen one for a year, 'most."
At length the banquet was over; sighs of contentment came from many.
"An occasion sich as this ain't never complete without a bit of
speech-makin'," suggested Yardsley, with a glance around. "Who wants
ter start the ball a-rollin'?"
Dave Brandon slowly arose.
"I feel uncommonly like taking a nap," he said, with a smile, "but I
suppose somebody must say a few words at such an auspicious time."
"He knows some big ones, all right," came a hoarse whisper from
Musgrove.
"I think," continued Dave, "our winter camp has been a great success.
Best of all, our friend, Nat Wingate, is now sound as a dollar.
Life in the open has taught us many lessons, among them habits of
self-reliance, and willingness to work. Oh, yes, I've watched you many
times, boys, and was pleased to note the energy of everybody except
yours truly. It's a good sign. We know that town boys can be hunters,
and trappers gentlemen, and that a dinner in the wilds can furnish more
enjoyment than one in the richest dining-room. I think I voice the
sentiments of all, when I say that we greatly appreciate the efforts of
our host, John Yardsley, and that we are thankful the bear furnished a
meal for us, and not Bob Somers for the bear."
A burst of cheers arose, as the poet laureate, beaming good-naturedly,
sat down, and Musgrove was heard to remark, "There's a smart lad fur
yer, Tim--talks like one of the real speechers."
"Our stout young friend has spoken words of wisdom," began Yardsley,
rising. "I must say I never enjoyed a winter like this in me life, an'
I hate ter think of yer leavin'. These here woods will sartingly seem
like a silent, dreary place, arter this. I can say, without meanin'
ter flatter no one, that I never come acrost a likelier crowd of young
chaps--success ter ye all!"
The banquet was voted a grand success by everybody, and the moon had
risen high in the heavens before the visitors began their march to
camp.