GIRAFFE TRIES FOR THE FOURTEENTH TIME.
"Whatever can we do, Giraffe?" asked Bumpus, presently, after he had
sighed several times, in a most forlorn way.
"Oh!" remarked the other, making out to be little concerned about the
matter, although his manner did not deceive the fat boy in the least,
for he knew Giraffe was worried greatly; "there are lots of things we
can do, all right; but you see the trouble is, Bumpus, they ain't agoin'
to help out much."
"We're in a tough hole, all right," grunted the other, disconsolately.
"Talk about Thad and Step Hen camping out;" Giraffe went on to say, "why
their troubles couldn't be mentioned in the same breath with ours, and
you know it. They had aplenty of matches along, and could get all the
blaze they wanted."
"And say, think of having the best part of a fine young buck to cook!"
burst out Bumpus, with another groan. "As for us, we've got the game all
right; but however can we get down to eating partridges that ain't ever
even been near a fire."
"Quit talkin' of eating, Bumpus; you fairly set me wild," declared the
tall boy, rubbing his empty stomach, as though its calls were growing
more insistent with a knowledge that they must pass unheeded now.
"Then you must be hungry?" suggested Bumpus.
"Hungry ain't no name for it," Giraffe replied. "That's always the way,
I've been told. When there ain't no water, a feller feels as if his
tongue was stickin' to the roof of his mouth. And Bumpus, bein' hungry
ain't the very worst of it, either!"
The fat boy sat up, and looked at his companion in misery as though
startled.
"What you mean, Giraffe, by slingin' that scare into me; I'd like to
know what's worse than starvin' to death in a single night?" he
demanded.
"Oh! shucks! don't you worry about that," the other went on, with a
sneer. "Not so much chance of our comin' to such an end in so short a
time. But there is real danger around us, Bumpus."
"Say, do you mean about them wolves?" exclaimed Bumpus, with a tremble
in his voice.
"That's just what I do mean," came the reply "When they tackled our
comrades, why they were bold as anything, even if the boys did have a
fire burning all the time. Think of how we're up against it, without a
single match to start a blaze."
"Then there's only one thing for us to do, Giraffe."
"Suppose you tell me what that is?" demanded the tall scout.
"Climb a tree," replied Bumpus, promptly.
Giraffe made an impatient gesture.
"Of course we could do that, as a last resort, Bumpus; but the chances
are, if we did, we'd freeze before morning!" he declared. "I've heard
old hunters say that of all the agony they ever endured, being kept in a
tree all night was the worst. Feel in your pockets again, Bumpus; try
everywhere, and see if you can only scare up _one_ single match. If
you did, we'd be mighty careful not to waste it, I tell you. This is a
case of 'my kingdom for a match!'"
So the fat scout commenced a systematic search, Every single pocket did
he feel in with trembling fingers, while his comrade watched his face
anxiously, knowing that it was likely to indicate the success or failure
of the search.
When he saw a sudden grin come upon that broad countenance Giraffe felt
like bursting out into a yell of joy.
"Got one, haven't you Bumpus?" he exclaimed, eagerly. "That was a bully
good idea of mine after all, you see, having you look again. Say, won't
we be careful of that one precious match, though? And won't we have the
fine dry stuff all ready to kindle, as soon as I strike it. You must let
me handle things, Bumpus, because, you know, I'm more used to--what's
the matter with you? Don't tell me it _ain't_ a match after all?
Oh! thunder!"
Bumpus had slowly drawn his hand out of his pocket, and held some object
up between his forefinger and his thumb. It was about the length of a
match, but had a sharpened point, instead of a blunt head.
"A--a miserable toothpick that I just dropped into my pocket when we ate
that dinner at the restaurant!" groaned the wretched Bumpus, staring
first at the offending object, and then turning a piteous face toward
his comrade.
Giraffe managed to rise to the occasion. Perhaps he remembered that Thad
had really committed the other into his charge; and that it was to him
the scoutmaster would look to give a good account of the expedition. And
then again, Bumpus was so shocked by the series of calamities which had
befallen them that he looked almost ready to collapse.
So Giraffe drew himself up, and assumed a confidence that he was far
from feeling.
"Don't take on so, Bumpus," he went on to say, almost cheerily. "It may
not be so very bad, after all. Don't let's forget that we're scouts; and
must keep a stiff upper lip whenever things turn out wrong. We'll just
do the best we can; and I reckon it'll all come out right in the end. It
nearly always does, you know."
At least his words and manner had some effect on the almost exhausted
fat boy, who brightened up more or less.
"Now, that's nice of you talking that way, Giraffe," he said. "You're
the right kind of a chum to have in time of trouble. But say, ain't it
gettin' cold though? Is that why you're slapping your arms around so?"
"Try it, and see how quick you feel warmer, Bumpus," replied the other,
with the patronizing air of one who is superior in knowledge, and
willing to impart all he knows; "you see, the violent action starts the
heart to beating nearly twice as fast as it does ordinarily; and that
pumps the blood harder, so it gets to the very end of your extremities.
That's what Thad says, anyhow; and it sure enough works."
So, for a minute or two both lads kept up a strenuous exercise, though
it was too much for poor Bumpus, who presently stopped.
"Feel better, don't you?" demanded Giraffe imperiously.
"A whole lot; but doin' that has one bad point, I find," said Bumpus.
"As how?" asked his companion.
"Why, it keeps on making you all the hungrier; exercise always has that
effect on me. Why, Giraffe, I feel like I could eat a whole ham right
now."
"Didn't I tell you to let up on that style of talk; you're just making
me groan inside every time you speak of eatin'. We ought to be tryin'
our level best to better our condition."
"But I don't know anything that would help us, Giraffe; so it's up to
you to get us out of this ugly hole. Perhaps we might use a shell from
my gun, and by taking out most of the powder, snap it off, and start a
fire going."
Strange to say, Giraffe did not seem to take to the idea, simple though
it was; and later on commended by Thad and Allan, when they heard about
the trouble. The fact was, Giraffe had suddenly remembered something.
"You leave it to me, and see if I don't pull out a trick worth while,"
he remarked mysteriously; and Bumpus saw him turn aside to get down on
his knees.
For some time the fat boy sat there, apparently lost in bitter
reflections. Now and then he would give a start, and look around him
hastily, after which he would heave a great sigh, or else groan
dismally. From this it might be assumed that Bumpus was allowing himself
to dwell upon many a glorious supper he had devoured in the company of
his Boy Scout chums; and just then he was enjoying things the best he
knew how, he would remember the desolation that confronted himself and
Giraffe.
Then he would pick up one of the two partridges that had fallen to his
new Marlin ten bore, look critically at it, feel the meat on the plump
breast; and then shake his head, as though the idea of having to turn
cannibal, and devour the game raw did not appeal at all to him.
On one occasion, when he aroused himself from this abstraction he became
conscious of a strange humming sound.
"What you doin' there, Giraffe?" he demanded, as the noise certainly
proceeded from the spot where his chum was down on his hands and knees.
"Why, you see," replied the other, slowly, "I fetched my little bow and
fire-makin' outfit along with me, thinkin' I might have a chance to try
a scheme I got in my head. I'm gettin' right into it now, because I want
to start business before it's real plumb dark!"
But far from reassuring the dejected Bumpus, these words only made him
grunt. Had he not watched Giraffe working away for dear life with that
miserable little outfit a dozen times, and always with the same
result--getting perilously near success, but always missing it by a
hair's breadth?
What chance did they have of securing the much desired fire, if all
depended on Giraffe succeeding in inducing that twirling stick to
generate enough heat to throw off a spark that would catch in the dry
tinder? None at all. It was only a hollow mockery. Some smart scouts
might be able to do the little trick; but up to now it had baffled the
skill of Giraffe. Why, even Thad had lost pretty much all hope of his
ever succeeding, Bumpus suspected; and believed that the only good thing
about the tall scout's labors was his persistence.
So, shaking his head again dolefully, Bumpus allowed himself to once
more figure out a bill of fare that he would like to commence on, if he
only had the good fortune to sit down at a table in a first-class
restaurant. It seemed to give him untold satisfaction just to imagine
the heaping platters that were being brought before him in rapid
succession. Why, in his vivid imagination he could almost get the
delicious odors of the various dishes that had long been favorites with
him; particularly the liver and bacon and fried onions. Oh! how
tantalizing to suddenly arouse himself with a start, to look around at
the rapidly darkening scene of those lonely pine woods, and hear,
instead of the waiter's cheery voice, only that continual grinding
sound, as the boy with the never-give-up nature kept sawing away with
his miserable little bow; and the poor stick kept whirling back and
forwards with a violent motion, in the socket that held one end.
In the estimation of Bumpus, that was coming down from the sublime to
the ridiculous. He had little confidence in all this labor of Giraffe;
though goodness knows, that if ever success would prove a boon to a
couple of stranded hunters caught in the darkness of a wintry night,
with not a match in their possession, it was then.