“Never mind, Artie old boy,” Westy said soothingly. “I’ll run down and
get the rope out of the canoe. Won’t take me a minute! You take a rest
and try and enjoy the view while I am gone. Bet the lake looks like a
regular amphitheater from there, doesn’t it?”
“You told it!” replied Artie. “Say though, it’s a shame you didn’t get
the chance to come down and take a look at the amphitheater yourself. If
you had told me of your curiosity, I’d have let you get the bird
yourself. There’s not a selfish motive in my make-up!”
“I’ll say there isn’t,” Westy answered, glad of Artie’s good humor.
“Artie!”
“What?”
“I am pretty sure I think I hear the eagles coming back!”
“Don’t tell me that! You sure?”
“Yep.”
“What did you do with the bird?”
“I laid it back on a rock and wrapped my scarf around it until I can see
what’s the trouble with it.”
“You better take it and run to the lake, Wes! They’re coming fast. I can
see them way off.”
“You don’t think I’m going to let you stay here all alone, do you?”
Westy fairly screamed. “What kind of a scout do you think I am, huh?”
“I’m safe enough here. You grab that bird and beat it as quick as you
can. There’ll be something doing if they find the bird lying there hurt
and you too! Two of us can’t fit in here and besides there isn’t time.
You run and wait by the lake until they go away again, then you can help
me get out. Oh, hurry, Wes, please, they’re almost here!”
Not having any other choice, Westy was spurred into action by Artie’s
pleading voice. He took the bird up carefully and started on a run,
skillfully dodging in and out of the trees and bushes down along the
trail. This he did to camouflage his presence from the two eagles, who
had already descended upon the cliff.
He maneuvered his descent without discovery, looking back from time to
time to reassure himself that Artie was safe from detection.
Reaching the lake, he went over to the canoe, where they had beached it.
To his dismay he found that in their excitement they had turned it over
after getting out, leaving the end that had held the rope hanging over
the water’s edge. Consequently it had dropped out and floated away and
probably by this time it was floating its merry way down into the
subterranean depths of Eagle Lake.
“Can you beat that for luck?” Westy questioned aloud. “I can’t paddle
the darn thing across either with this bird in my hands, and I’m afraid
to lay it down. I’ll have to get around to the other side of the lake so
I can keep my eye on Artie. I better hurry so I can tend to the poor
thing. It’s still alive all right; I can feel something moving.”
He was out of breath between talking to himself and running, but finally
he reached a spot where he could command an excellent view of the
hollow. He waited a while, apprehensively. His patience was soon
rewarded for he became aware of something moving within the hollow, and
then perceived it was Artie waving his handkerchief to assure him of his
safety.
Westy drew a deep breath, the first he had stopped to take since he had
left Artie. He hated to think of having been forced to leave him up
there alone.
“Gee whiz,” he said aloud, as he slowly unwound his scarf from the bird,
“if we hadn’t stopped to fool we might have made it at that. Jiminy, I
wonder?”