A NIGHT ALARM
"Oh! please don't shoot just yet; I'm nearly ready," exclaimed Will, who
had been fumbling with trembling fingers at his camera while they were
creeping closer.
"What do you want to do--shoot the cat with your machine?" whispered
Frank, the most accommodating fellow in the world.
"Yes, that's it. Don't you see, it would be the prize of the whole bunch?
Can't you let me give a flash, and shoot afterwards?" begged the ardent
photographer.
Frank could not refuse.
"It would be a dandy all right, with old Toby hanging there; but look
sharp, for the cat hears us whispering, and is ready to get out."
Hardly had he spoken before there came a brilliant flash.
"Got him!" shrieked the excited Will.
Then came a heavy report close to his ears, as Frank fired.
The flash had dazzled all but Frank, who managed to keep his eyes away
from it. He was thus enabled to catch sight of the startled wildcat
bounding for the shelter of the trees, having deserted its meal in
sudden fright.
As soon as he had fired, Frank threw his gun around so as to cover the
spot he expected the animal to occupy if by any chance it escaped the
full effect of his first charge.
But it jumped the other way, and might have vanished from view only that
Jerry fired from his hip, there being no time to aim from the shoulder.
"He's down!" shouted Bluff, as the fierce visitor in the camp rolled over
and over, clawing aimlessly as it expired.
Ready to shoot again if necessary, the two hunters cautiously advanced.
There was no need of further attention, for the wildcat stiffened out
under their eyes.
"Ginger! but ain't he a beaut?" exclaimed Bluff, bending over.
"I wonder if there happens to be a mate around?" said Jerry, as he bent
an anxious look toward the timber close at hand.
"They generally hunt in couples," admitted Frank; "but in this case I
hardly think it can be so, for the other would have come to the feast."
Uncle Toby came down from his perch rather dubiously, as if he feared
that the danger might not be all over.
"What happened to you, Uncle Toby?" asked Frank, giving the others a wink
not to joke the old fellow too seriously, for he was still trembling.
"Yuh see 'twar dis way, Marse Frank: dat cat he jest wanted de ham more'n
Unc Toby did, an' I naturally lets him hab it. He jumps down from de
tree, an' I feels a notion to elevate 'bout dat time. Don' know how I
gits up dar, but 'spect I done fly," explained the cook, as well as his
chattering teeth would permit.
"He means he aviated upward," grinned Jerry.
Will was patting his camera lovingly.
"Oh! I do hope it turns out fine," he said; "for that would be a jolly
hit. I'd rather snap off pictures like that than shoot a grizzly or a
bull moose. Me for the gentle life. I'm no butcher."
"Talk to me about that, will you? You're a sport all right, Will, only it
happens that your tastes run in a different direction from mine. Don't
knock my love of fair play, and I won't laugh at your wanting to snap off
every living thing you see, to make up a freak collection."
"All right, then, Jerry; consider it a bargain. I suppose you'll have
a muff made out of this nice fur for somebody?" continued Will,
stroking the cat.
"Haven't given it a thought. Besides, half of the honor belongs to
Frank."
"What's that? I made a mess of it, and the beast would have escaped if
you hadn't shot him on the jump?" exclaimed Frank.
"And if you hadn't wounded him how could I have ever had a chance to
shoot? You can't get out of it, old man; we'll share the honors,"
returned Jerry.
Frank said no more, but such generosity only drew him closer to his chum.
Fortunately the supper had not advanced far enough to be ruined. They
were able to save most of the ham, which was a comfort. Frank declared
that he wondered at the beast taking to smoked pork; he could not
remember any similar circumstance in all his hunting, and concluded that
possibly the wildcat must have been unusually hungry.
It had really been quite a strenuous day, and the boys were glad to
sit around the big fire and partake of the good supper which Uncle
Toby prepared.
Bluff had to relate his story again and again, but it differed little
from what he had already told.
"I made a silly fool of myself, I know now, and it was mighty fine in
you fellows coming to pull me out of the hole I dropped into. If that
Andy has got my beautiful gun in his camp, he's smart enough to keep it
under cover. I never had even a peep at it. But just wait. I'm going to
get that gun back if it takes all winter," declared Bluff.
"He'll do it too, just mark me," observed Frank, nodding to Jerry.
Apparently the other was tired of hearing about that same gun, for he
only smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
In the morning Jerry tried his hand at skinning the game. He had
taken particular pains to notice just how old Jesse Wilcox did this
sort of thing, and, being a clever imitator, he managed to succeed
after a fashion.
Frank meanwhile had made a frame suitable to the size of the skin, and
upon this the hairy pelt was stretched, care being taken to keep it in
the shade, and not near the heat of the fire, while drying.
Later on in the day Jerry and Frank took a stroll through the woods, and
managed to bring back three partridge and several gray squirrels. Frank
would not let Toby cook the latter as the other wished.
"They are always tough for frying unless parboiled first. After skinning
and cutting up I always put the pieces in a pot, and boil until tender;
then take them out, dry off, and put them in a hot pan in which several
pieces of salt pork have been first tried out. I think you'll say they're
all right when you get your teeth in them, fellows," he remarked.
And they did.
Will managed to take a few views during the middle of the day, prowling
in the neighborhood of the camp. There was a pretty stream not far away,
and it ran over rocks and between attractive banks, so that half a dozen
charming pictures presented themselves to the eyes of the artist.
The Fall had not advanced so far as to show signs of ice on the water,
though there were times when the air was very crisp and frosty.
Bluff had remained in camp pretty much all day. He seemed uneasy, and
passed in and out of the tents frequently as though wondering what could
have happened to bring about such a mysterious disappearance of his
beloved gun.
Sitting by the fire for a time, he would conceive some idea, and jumping
to his feet hurry into the woods to search a particular spot where he
remembered having passed over on that never-to-be-forgotten night.
Still, when the others returned in the afternoon there was the same look
of distress upon his face.
"Talk to me about a pagan and his idols," said Jerry, aside to Frank;
"Bluff has the whole show beaten. I never saw such a persistent
fellow, never."
"He'll never be happy till he gets it, Jerry," remarked the other.
"Then he deserves to have a bad time," declared Jerry, tossing the bunch
of game down before Will and Uncle Toby, who happened to be doing
something in common at the campfire.
That night they had a royal feast indeed. It tasted all the better
because the squirrels and partridge had fallen to their own guns, and not
been basely purchased in the market. And doubtless their surroundings had
considerable to do with the enjoyment of the dinner.
Will took advantage of the darkness to get a new roll of films in
his camera.
"How many have you cracked off," asked Jerry, noting his occupation.
"Three rolls, so far; about half I brought. I expect to be careful from
now on, and try to get choice subjects. But I know I'll never find
another to equal that wildcat scene. Oh! I hope it is a success!"
replied the enthusiastic photographer.
"So say we all," remarked Frank; "for it will chase the blues away many a
time, just to see the look on Uncle Toby's face, as he clung to that
friendly limb."
"Gorry, but I was mighty glad tuh git my claws on dat limb, Marse Frank.
Wen I seed dem big yaller eyes a-starin' at me, an' heerd dat yowlin'
noise, my knees dey jest wobbled together. Nevah could tell how I got up
dar; reckons as how you say am jest de truf, an' I _flew_!" exclaimed the
cook, able to laugh now at his adventure.
They turned in early, for their rest had been broken on the preceding
night, and both the hunters were leg weary.
The last sound Frank remembered hearing was the mournful hooting of the
owls. The birds seemed to have a favorite roosting-place not far away,
and from time to time the tremulous sound of their calling drifted
through space.
Just how long he slept Frank did not exactly know. He awoke with a
sneeze, and sat up, rubbing his eyes.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Jerry, also starting out of a sound sleep.
"I don't know--why, the tent's full of smoke! The camp must be on fire!
Wake up, everybody!"
As the two lads came crawling out of the canvas they were startled to
discover a heavy pall of smoke rising all around them.