ANOTHER HUNT FOR VENISON
“A good riddance to bad rubbish!” remarked Bluff, with a grin, as they
saw the party disappear in the woods, with Bill Nackerson still
snarling at his friends.
“I hope none of us will ever see that man again,” said Mr. Darrel, as
he shook hands with each of his young friends.
“And, Bluff,” Frank observed, turning on the other, “I want to say
that you did that business in fine shape. He seemed to have one eye on
me, and I was afraid that if I started off to the cabin he would break
loose.”
“That was a happy thought, your sending me,” replied Bluff, “and I’ll
always feel that you did me a big favor. We’re sure glad to see you,
Mr. Darrel. Hope you mean to spend some little time with us.”
“Only one night, boys,” replied the lumberman. “I have so much going
on at Lumber Run Camp, with new men arriving daily, that it’s
necessary for me to be on the job constantly. How are you all,
anyway?”
“Feeling fine and dandy, sir,” Jerry told him.
“And getting some rattling good pictures in the bargain,” added Will.
“I’ll show you what we’ve done, later on, sir.”
“How about you, Bluff?” demanded the lumberman, noticing that the
other had not made any reply to his question. “I hope you’ve kept your
appetite, and can come up smiling three times a day when the meal hour
arrives?”
“Oh, I’m all right, Mr. Darrel!” replied Bluff. “Nothing the matter
with my eating apparatus.”
During the rest of that day they had much to show their guest—and to
tell him, as well. It seemed as though the lumberman was having the
time of his life in the society of these bright young fellows. At
least, he told them he was renewing his own youth.
They got up a supper later on that could be called sumptuous. Bluff
and Frank exerted themselves to make a spread that would convince
their guest they were well acquainted with camp cookery.
“I haven’t enjoyed a meal as much as that for years,” Mr. Darrel told
them afterward, as they sat around the fire.
Bluff immediately commenced patting himself, as though he felt happy
over having his work praised in this fashion. Will expected to start
out presently, with one of the others for company, in order to place
his camera trap again. He believed he could get a fox to take the
tempting bait and thus photograph his own features.
The tongues clattered for several hours that evening. Mr. Darrel
insisted on hearing scores of things connected with their past
experiences. They had lots to tell, and every one took a hand in
relating the story. It was almost like living those happy days over
again, as they pictured the numerous thrilling episodes one after
another.
Nothing would do but Bluff should arrange a couch on the floor, while
their guest occupied his bunk. Mr. Darrel would have insisted on
declining, only he saw how set the boy was upon carrying out his plan
and what a deal of pleasure it seemed to afford him.
Indeed, Will and Jerry envied him that new bed when they saw what a
cozy nest Frank and Bluff had made of it. A lot of hemlock browse, of
which there was no lack in the vicinity of the woods cabin, had been
piled up and covered with part of the blanket, the other fold being
intended for a covering. As the fire was to be kept up through the
night, since it was getting very cold outdoors, Bluff was not likely
to suffer.
Mr. Darrel had been thoughtful enough to fetch his own blanket on his
back. He knew each of the boys had one apiece, and realized that
unless he provided for himself he must deprive one of them.
The owner of Lumber Run Camp stayed until the following noon. When
finally he started back, two of the boys went part of the way with
him.
“I hope to see you all again before many days, boys,” had been his
parting words, “and if I don’t get over here, remember you must drop
in at our camp on your way out. I want to keep in touch with such a
fine lot of young chaps. And, Will, tell Uncle Felix for me that I’m a
thousand times obliged to him for sending you up here. I feel ten
years younger.”
Will was feeling very chipper that day. He had found his trap sprung,
and upon developing the exposed film found that he had obtained a
remarkably fine picture of a fox.
All the others told him he was making great headway toward winning
that prize offered by the Maine railroad. The success that had
rewarded his perseverance thus far did much to inspire Will with
further ambition.
“If I could only get a view of a bull moose before we leave here, I
think I’d be the happiest fellow in seven counties,” he said that
evening, when again the four chums gathered before their crackling
fire.
“Did you ever see a finer spell of brisk, bracing weather than we’ve
been having?” Jerry wanted to know. “And, Frank, to-morrow we must be
sure to get started on that hunt we’ve put off so long. The last bit
of venison was cooked for supper to-night, you know; and what’s a camp
in the woods without game hanging up?”
“That suits me all right,” Frank replied, “unless Will here, or Bluff,
would rather keep you company.”
“Please don’t count on my doing any hunting with a murderous gun on
this trip,” Will hastened to say. “I’m too much taken up with this new
hobby of mine. Not that I would refuse to help eat any nice partridge,
venison, or even bear meat, if you insist on bringing it into camp.”
At that the rest laughed.
“I’ve heard others talk that way before,” Frank remarked. “One old
fellow who was said to be a natural woodsman, and who used to write
splendid things for the sporting magazines, always boasted about going
into the woods light, carrying little besides a blanket, a coffeepot,
frying pan, cup, tin plate, and a few necessities in the way of
coffee, tea, sugar, and the like.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of him, too,” broke in Bluff; “and while he used to
make all manner of fun of the poor sillies who nearly broke their
backs toting all sorts of good things like canned meats into camp, he
confessed that he was always willing to help them get rid of the grub
later on.”
In this lively fashion did they pass the evening, and then came the
time for turning in. Another peaceful night followed. The boys were
gradually forgetting Bill Nackerson and his threats. If they thought
of him at all, it was with the hope that he had come to his senses,
and concluded it would hardly pay to bother the inmates of the cabin,
since they had such a stanch friend in the big lumberman.
On the following morning Jerry and Frank started off. The former was
counting on making a respectable addition to the larder before they
returned. Frank expected to take a new course, covering ground that
none of them had as yet hunted over.
“At the same time,” he explained to Jerry, as they moved along, “I’m
trying to keep a good distance away from the place where that other
crowd is. We don’t hanker about having any trouble with Nackerson, and
the best way to avoid it is to give him a wide berth.”
Presently it was thought advisable to keep still. In that frosty
atmosphere even ordinary sounds could be heard at some distance, and
deer have the sharpest of ears.
Of course, the hunters had headed up into what light wind was
stirring, so that their coming might not be heralded by the scent upon
which a wild animal depends to give him warning of the approach of
danger.
A number of times they were flurried by flushing a covey of
partridges. Jerry almost wished they had come prepared to load down
with the birds; but until the last flickering chance of getting a deer
had died out, Frank advised that they confine their attention to the
one thing they had in mind.
“On the way home,” he told Jerry, when the other sighed at seeing
three plump birds sitting on a limb within easy range, “we can get all
we want, if the venison is missing.”
So Jerry had to be content. They had gone several miles from camp, and
so far had not started a deer. Tracks in the snow had been seen
several times. Indeed, Frank was really following a trail that he
seemed to think rather fresh. It could do no harm, and might turn out
a wise move on their part, Jerry realized, as he trotted along at the
side of his chum.
“Did you hear anything like a shout then?” Frank suddenly asked.
Before Jerry could reply, it came again. This time the sound was
seemingly close by, certainly not over a quarter of a mile away.
“Somebody’s in trouble, Frank!” exclaimed Jerry, immediately aroused.
“That was a cry for help!”
“It certainly was,” agreed Frank. “We’ll push on in that direction;
but let’s keep our eyes about us, and look sharp against anything like
treachery.”
“You’re thinking of Nackerson?”
“Just who I am. He wouldn’t hesitate a minute if he could lure us into
a trap. But that sound’s genuine enough, I must say.”
They hurried their footsteps. Indeed, the piteous nature of the cries
thrilled the boys.
“He can’t be very far away now,” ventured Jerry, panting a little from
his exertions.
“Just back of that scrub yonder,” replied Frank. “Let’s move out a
little, and in that way we can see him before we get too close.”
Three minutes later Jerry broke out again.
“I can see him now, Frank! He’s sitting down and holding on to his
foot. There he gets up again, and oh! my stars, Frank, what’s he got
fastened to his leg? I declare to goodness if it doesn’t look like one
of Jesse Wilcox’s bear traps!”
“Just what it is, Jerry, though it’s hard to believe!” added Frank,
also excited. “Don’t you see who the poor chap is?”
“Why, as sure as anything it’s that Teddy we saw with Bill Nackerson
on the train coming here! The poor fellow, to get himself in such a
pickle as that!”