THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN
“Somebody’s in trouble!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Makes me think of the time we found Teddy with his foot caught in the
bear trap,” said Bluff. “But come on, let’s make for over there, and
find out what’s going on.”
With that they started to run. The shouts had ceased. Both boys used
their eyes as they hurried along, and pretty soon Bluff cried:
“Hey, what’s that jumping up and down over yonder? Strikes me they
look like a pack of dogs or wolves!”
“Oh, Bluff, they’ve got those men up a tree, don’t you see? Perhaps
they’ve been there all night. I pity them, if that’s so.”
“Yes; but first let’s see if we can pepper the wolves some, so’s to
make ’em tired of hanging around. Be ready to blaze away.”
The half dozen or more animals had discovered their presence by this
time. They immediately began to display signs of meaning to clear out,
for several ran short distances, to turn and snarl, as though
uncertain whether to show fight or not.
Bluff fired, and one of the gray-coated pirates from the Canadian
border went limping away. The rest decided they would be wise to put
considerable distance between themselves and the owners of those
sticks that coughed and sent forth unseen missiles that stung.
Jerry managed to get in a couple of parting shots, and always declared
that he hit one of the running beasts, though if so it could not have
been a fatal wound since none dropped.
Hurrying forward, the boys discovered a bulky object in the crotch of
a tree.
“Why, it’s Bill Nackerson!” cried Jerry.
“Yes, that’s who it is, sonny, or what’s left of him; because I’m
mighty much afraid both my feet are frozen. I’ve been cooped up here
for hours, while that hungry gang kept watching and jumping and
growling all the while. I’m glad you came up. It’ll cheat ’em out of
their breakfast, no matter what happens to me.”
“Can you drop down?” asked Bluff, touched by the evident suffering in
the man’s face.
“I’ll do the best I can,” the other replied, “but I don’t seem to have
any feeling in my feet. If they were a couple of clubs they couldn’t
be more useless to me.”
The boys helped him to some extent. Presently Nackerson was sitting in
the snow, with Bluff and Jerry trying to get his leggings and foot
coverings off so that they might rub the frozen feet with snow to draw
out the frost.
“Where are your two friends?” suddenly asked Bluff, remembering that
there were three hunters when he and his chum last saw them.
Bill Nackerson groaned.
“I was a fool, and deserve what I got,” he declared. “They wanted to
make camp through the storm, and we quarreled. I said I’d stick it out
here by the moose, and if the worst came, I’d have something to fall
back on. So in the end they went away, and I started to make a shelter
the best way I could.”
“Yes; I noticed that somebody had done that,” Bluff told him. “Then
the wolves came, did they?”
“When I heard their howls getting closer all the time,” continued the
man, “I knew what was going to happen. My rifle had stuck, so I
couldn’t work the pump action. It was no better than a club. I started
off to see if I could find you boys camping, or come across a bigger
tree than the ones around where the moose was lying.”
He groaned again, as though the recollection gave him pain.
“We’re not hurting you, I hope?” asked Jerry; for at the time both
were rubbing his feet with snow.
“Oh, no; I wish it did hurt,” replied Nackerson, “because then I’d
know there was some life left in my feet. I climbed this tree when I
knew the critters were not far away. And here I’ve had to stay ever
since. I tried to move around and slap my arms, but my feet began to
get numb in spite of me.”
“Don’t you begin to feel a little burning sensation?” asked Bluff
anxiously.
“Well, now that you mention it, I believe I do, son. Keep rubbing
harder than ever, please. Oh, if ever I get out of this scrape alive
it’s going to be a lesson to me. I’ll sure turn over a new leaf, I
promise you, and try to do the right thing from now on.”
“Glad to hear it, Mr. Nackerson,” said Jerry, impressed by what he
believed to be the man’s sincerity.
Bluff did not feel so sanguine. Perhaps he remembered an old rhyme
that he had heard long ago about the Evil One, and which ran to the
effect that when Satan was sick he would be a saint; but that the
desire faded out of his mind as soon as he was well again.
By degrees the man told them his feet were beginning to hurt him. They
persisted in their labors until Bluff decided that the rubbing had
gone on long enough.
“And now, what’s the next question?” asked Jerry.
“If you are meaning to try for your home camp,” Nackerson told them,
as a pleading expression came into his face, “I hope you’ll let me go
along. Don’t desert me here. You might as soon have left me to the
wolves as abandon me now.”
“Do you think you could manage to hobble along with us?” asked Bluff.
“Sure I can; watch and see how well I’m able to walk,” the sportsman
hastened to say.
He did the best he could, and if his gait was uncertain, the outdoor
chums knew that he would walk better after he had become limbered up.
Accordingly, they started, heading back along their trail, so as to
come upon the spot where the horns of the big moose lay. Their
intention to carry these all the way to the cabin had not changed.
It did not take long to separate the horns from the skull. They felt
pretty heavy, once Jerry started to hoist the burden on his back.
“We’ll tote them as far as we can, anyhow,” Bluff declared, “and then
if they get too heavy we will find some hiding place, where they will
be safe till we come back after ’em.”
With this understanding, they pushed on. Nackerson was gritting his
teeth and summoning all his grit to the fore, in order to keep his
lower limbs moving. As Bluff had anticipated, he began to improve as
he went along.
When an hour or two had passed and they knew they were far on the road
toward home, the boys became more determined than ever to save the
trophy. They wanted to see the look of astonishment on the faces of
those in the camp when they came marching in.
That would be much more satisfactory than simply telling the story of
the successful hunt, that had been followed by such stirring events.
First one boy assumed the load and after a certain time, when he found
it was telling upon him, he would fix it upon the other’s back.
“We’re going to earn this thing twice over, you know,” grunted Bluff,
after he had in turn disposed of it and Jerry was staggering along
under the burden.
“Well, everything tastes all the better when you’ve had to go to a lot
of trouble to get it,” the other chum replied, as he buckled to his
task.
These spells were growing shorter, which told plainly enough that the
boys were drawing closer to the point of exhaustion. Still they kept
encouraging each other by remarking that it was only another mile or
so now, because of a certain landmark they recognized, or something of
that kind.
“Just think what the boys will say when they see us lugging these
horns into camp!” Jerry observed, as well as he could, considering the
fact that he was panting with the exertion his burden compelled him to
put forth.
“And at seeing who we’ve got towing along behind us, too,” muttered
Bluff; for to him the gathering in of Bill Nackerson in the way they
had was more remarkable than any other happening that had befallen
them.
“Every step counts,” added Jerry hopefully.
“Whenever you’re feeling tuckered out, don’t hesitate to say so,”
Bluff told his chum, “and shove her right along this way. By making
these changes frequently we’ll keep things going.”
“I don’t believe Bill can stagger along much farther,” whispered
Jerry. “Perhaps you’d better offer to lend him a hand.”
All feeling of animosity toward the big sportsman had died out of
their hearts by this time. He looked so forlorn as he limped along,
trying to repress the groans welling to his lips, that they could only
feel pity where once had been disgust and distrust. Bitterly had Bill
Nackerson paid for his evil deeds. Both boys only hoped the lesson
would be remembered.
Bluff insisted on giving the man a shoulder, and after that Bill
seemed to get along better. He even brightened up some, and wondered
if his feet could be saved to him, after all.
“Half a mile, about, and we’ll be there,” said Bluff, to bolster up
their spirits.
Presently both boys began to recognize landmarks that had been noticed
on previous occasions. Bluff brought these features of the landscape
to the attention of his comrade.
“I want you to take the horns just when we come in sight of the cabin,
Jerry,” he declared, with self-denial that the other appreciated.
“That’s mighty good of you,” Jerry said feelingly, “’specially since
they belong just as much to you as to me. I’m not going to be greedy.
I insist that from this place on we carry them between us.”
That pleased Bluff very much, for he liked to know he had a chum who
could match his own generosity. So it happened that from that point
forward they carried the horns of the giant moose between them, spread
out in the most conspicuous way possible.
“There, I can see smoke coming up out of the chimney, which means
there’s somebody home!” remarked Bluff suddenly.
“Yes, and, oh, Bluff, seems to me I can get a whiff of cooking away
off here!” Jerry gasped. “I don’t think I was ever so hungry in my
life. I hope they’ve cooked an extra supply, because here come three
mighty savage fellows to dinner.”
“Ready now, to give a shout!” cried Bluff.
A minute later, at a signal from Bluff, the boys raised their lusty
voices in a series of whoops that created no end of bustle within the
cabin. The door was flung wide open to give egress to three excited
boys. How they stared at those massive moose horns carried so proudly
between the pair of successful Nimrods; but most of all were their
wondering eyes fixed on the shuffling figure of Bill Nackerson, as he
came limping dolefully in the rear!