THE SHACK OF THE MUSKRAT TRAPPER
"Wake up, everybody!"
Bang! bang! bang! went the big spoon on the frying pan Frank held.
As the others came crawling out of the tents they sniffed the air.
"Say, that bacon smells prime!" declared Will, smacking his lips.
"Hope you didn't forget about that mess of hominy I spoke about last
night, Toby. Hominy's my great stand-by for breakfast. All right, I see
it on the fire. Give me just five minutes. If it wasn't for that gun--"
"Talk about your Ambrosia, that Java sure has it knocked clean out,"
broke in Jerry. "Me for a quick-dressing act and then grub!"
Uncle Toby grinned, for he knew what appetites boys are apt to develop
when in the woods, and, of course, he had made allowances.
They were soon gathered around the table and busy.
"What's the programme for to-day?" asked Frank, when the edge of their
appetites had been taken away.
"First thing of all I want some snapshots of the camp in the morning sun.
You can see that's the best time to get a good view. Now, just sit still,
fellows, and let me do my little trick," said Will.
They assumed grotesque positions, but the photographer refused to
stand for that.
"What d'ye think I want, a collection of freaks broken loose from the
lunatic asylum? Here, you, Will, be dishing out some more bacon on to
your plate; Frank, take up the coffee-pot and be helping Bluff. Uncle
Toby, just look pleasant."
"Pretend you found my gun, and I was giving you half a dollar, Uncle
Toby," remarked Bluff, quickly.
"Always thinking of that cheap, clap-trap affair," growled Jerry.
"Goodness knows if we'll hear anything else from him all the time we're
in camp. I declare I've half a notion--"
"To do what?" asked Frank, looking at him suspiciously.
Jerry only smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"Now, hold your positions, fellows. Frank, lean a little forward, so your
face stands out better; there, that's right. Toby, raise your head and
point up as if you saw a bird in that tree. That's good, all right; it's
over. Thank you!"
Will kept his position for a little while, and every few minutes seemed
to find a chance to snap off another view. He evidently believed in
getting a variety of the main subject of their outing--the home camp.
"I move we try and find old Jesse Wilcox this morning," suggested Frank.
"That suits me, if we don't have to go too far," agreed Jerry.
"How's the shin, by the way, this morning? Haven't noticed you
limp much?"
"Feels pretty fair. Next time I chase out of camp I'm going to make sure
to clear that old box, all right. How about the rest--do you say go?"
asked Jerry.
"Count me in," called Will.
"Yes, you will want to get some views of the old trapper and his cabin,
with the door covered with muskrat skins," remarked Frank.
"Coming along, Bluff?" asked Jerry, watching the other covertly.
"I guess not to-day. I'm going to hunt around again to see if I could
have unconsciously grabbed up that gun as I bolted, and then dropped it
in the brush. Such a thing might happen, you know, fellows," returned
the other.
So he remained behind when the other three sallied forth, Frank and
Jerry carrying their guns over their shoulders, while Will brought up the
rear bearing his camera ready for use and on the lookout for subjects.
"If you see any game please give me a chance to snap a view before you
shoot," he pleaded; at which the others laughed.
"Perhaps, but we can't promise. If a partridge got up suddenly it would
be a case of shoot first, and think afterwards," said Frank.
"But if it should be a deer standing feeding?"
"Or a black bear on his hind legs begging?" jeered Jerry.
"All right. I'm going to be ready for all that comes along. Still life,
if I have to, or anything else."
Will's last words were drowned in the report of Jerry's gun. He had swung
it around like a flash, and without apparently glancing along the
barrels, fired one charge at something that was flashing through the
undergrowth.
There came a second shot, so close upon the heels of the first that the
reports were almost blended in one.
Jerry turned and looked reproachfully at Frank.
"Talk about your sporting blood, you sure wiped my eye that
time," he said.
"The bird was a little too close for your shot to scatter; I had a better
chance as it flew away farther. You'd have dropped him with your second
barrel, I reckon, old fellow," cried Frank, hurrying forward to pick up
the partridge.
"Yes, I've no doubt I would; but that's the first time I ever had any
one step in and beat me clean. I'll have to watch out for you after
this, you sly 'possum. But then you've shot lots of these birds up in
Maine, I suppose?"
"Plenty of them; but up there they light in trees, and the natives don't
hesitate to drop them while they sit."
"That's little short of murder," said Jerry.
After an hour's walk they reached the camp of old Jesse.
"There it is, boys," said Frank, pointing ahead.
"And he's home, too; something I hardly expected at this time of day,"
from Jerry. "Because if he has a line of traps the morning is the time he
tends them, I'm told."
As they approached, the man in the camp turned and saw them. He was a
tall and angular fellow, well on in years, and with keen eyes that seemed
always looking for signs around him.
"Say, boys, this here is right nice o' you, comin' to look me up. Out on
a leetle hunt to-day?" he asked, as he shook hands all around.
"We've come up to camp out for a couple of weeks, while repairs are made
to the school building, damaged in the gale of wind," answered Frank.
"Sho, ye don't say? Well, now, that's fine! I'll be right glad to see
sumpin' o' ye while around. Whar's the camp, Jerry?"
"At the spring under the twin hemlocks. We wanted to run over and see
how you were getting on. Started to put out your traps yet, Jesse?"
asked the other.
"Oh! I got a few in line. Season's a bit early yet, ye see. Bringing in
some musquash," and he swept his hand around at a dozen wooden frames
upon which the skins were drying in the shade.
"Please let me get a picture of you at work, just as you were when we
came up," said the ambitious photographer, keen on the subject that
interested him most.
The trapper grinned good-naturedly.
"Fire away, then. So long as I don't give away any o' my secret ways o'
preparin' the pelts, I don't keer. I'm some proud o' that shack, too.
Sheds the rain, an' kin be kept warm easy; what more do a feller want?"
he observed.
The operation was speedily completed.
"Hope you feel better now you've got that out of your system,"
said Jerry.
"I have five more exposures on this roll of film, boys. Hope to get
something worth while before we start back to camp," retorted Will,
caressing his new camera.
"Where do you get the muskrats, Jesse?" asked Frank, as he bent down to
examine the way in which each skin was carefully stretched out on its
little frame.
"Along the edge o' the swamp half a mile off. They's jest rafts o' 'em
thar. As a rule the pelts bring about fifteen cents each, but jest now
thar's quite a boom on, an' I reckon I'll git sixty apiece."
"That's fine. What else do you catch here in season?" asked Jerry.
"Wall, a few mink, not many, once in a long while an otter, fur which I
git twenty dollars. Then I caught three bobcats last winter, seven foxes,
eleven 'coon, half a dozen 'possums, an' two black b'ars, though one o'
them I shot arter we had a right lively argyment."
"Whew! then there _are_ bears around here?" asked Will, eagerly; "what
wouldn't I give to get a picture of one in its wild state?"
The old man laughed.
"Kinder risky business a shootin' _that_ thing at a b'ar, 'specially a
she-b'ar as has young uns nigh. Like as not she'd rush ye. Now, I got a
skin here with the head on it, an' if it comes to the wust we might rig
that up, natural like, so ye cud git a picter o' a wild an' ferocious
beast coming at ye on his hind legs."
"Oh! I hope I won't have to descend to a fake like that. But we've come
to put in the day with you, Jesse. Show us how you set your traps,
won't you?"
"Sartin I will. Was jest startin' out for a turn when ye showed up; so
s'pose ye drop in line. It won't take more'n an hour or two, boys."
They were delighted at the chance, Will lugging his camera along, though
the old trapper cast a dubious eye on the affair, as if he did not wholly
like the idea of visiting his traps with such a "contraption," something
unheard of in his experience.
"Now, don't even whisper, fellers. Here's the swamp and my traps begins
clost by. I'll show ye all about it by signs. Dumb trappers is most
successful, they sez," remarked Jesse, holding up his hand.
The three boys followed close at his heels, each picking his way, and
walking on his tiptoes, as though that would make any difference.
So they entered the edge of the swamp.
Suddenly the man came to a halt and stooping, pointed ahead.
"Looky yonder," he whispered hoarsely, "that's somebody stealing out o'
my traps!"