SHOWING THE GREENHORNS
"WHOO! tak' him off, Lil Artha! It's a mad cat, it is, I'm thinkin'!"
The 'coon being presently dislodged, after having only given Alec a few
trifling scratches, proceeded to retreat in hot haste. The angry Scotch
lad, snatching up another billet of wood, was about to rush after the
frightened animal as though to vent his fury upon it, when Lil Artha
barred the way.
"Don't do it, Alec!" he called out, holding up a restraining hand; "let
the poor thing trot along. He's more scared than you were, take it from
me."
"But he _bit_ me, ye ken; and I don't let any fearsome wild beastie do
that with impunity, I tell ye!" snapped Alec.
"Well, who's really to blame, Alec?" said Lil Artha, promptly. "That's
only a harmless raccoon. He must have his nest in a hollow limb of this
tree we're under. Hearing all the talk going on below here, can you
blame him for peeking, and trying to pick up a few points about eating,
and the like? He was within his rights, and you had no business to knock
him down with that chunk of wood. He happened to fall on your shoulders,
and commenced scratching and clawing when you jabbed at him so with your
hands. He only scratched you a little, and drew the blood. Elmer has the
stuff to put on that, and prevent any chance of blood poisoning setting
in. But surely you wouldn't kill that inoffensive little runt because he
allowed you to knock him out of the tree."
Alec hung his head.
"Aweel, it may be you're right, Lil Artha," he muttered, being conquered
by the arguments advanced by the other. "Anyway, it's too late now to
chase after him, for the beastie is lang out of sight. Perhaps I was
o'er hasty to throw. Next time I'll try to hold my hand."
"It pays not to be too fast while in the woods," he was assured. "If now
that had happened to be a bobcat, you'd have been in a nice pickle, let
me tell you; and he might have scratched out both your eyes before the
rest of us could lift a hand to save you. Better go slow but sure, Alec.
And try to look at things once in a while from the standpoint of the
woods animal. You'll find it mighty interesting to put yourself in their
place, and figure just what you would do."
Again Alec scratched that tousled red head of his. Plainly he was
puzzled to exactly grasp what Lil Artha meant; but then, as time passed
and he became more accustomed to this strange camp life, now so new to
him, the boy would doubtless understand many things that in the
beginning looked very mysterious.
When, a short time later, Lil Artha began to initiate him into the
mysteries of fire-making, Alec displayed more or less fresh interest. He
knew he was going to like that sort of thing first-rate, he told the
other; which acknowledgment caused the tall scout to grin with pleasure,
since it repaid him tenfold for all the trouble he had taken thus far.
The fire was soon burning cheerily. Somehow it seemed a great source of
joy to everyone, especially Elmer, Lil Artha and George. As veteran
scouts the crackle of a blaze instantly called up fond memories of
numerous former occasions when in the woods, and camping amidst the
solitudes they had met with all sorts of interesting and even thrilling
adventures, never to be utterly forgotten, even when they had grown to
manhood, and gone forth into the world upon their appointed life
missions.
Next in order came the preparations for cooking the camp supper. Here
Lil Artha had fresh and glorious opportunities to show the tenderfoot
squad all sorts of things that it was of prime importance they should
early manage to acquire, if they expected to make good scouts.
And when the ham had been nicely browned in the skillet; the potatoes
and onions thoroughly cooked; the coffee allowed to settle, after being
brought to a boil; and the rudely-built table set with all sorts of good
things besides, from cookies, jam, home-made pies, pickles, and such
articles as the crafty George had prevailed upon his dupe, Rufus, to
include in the bulky stores, it seemed as though there was hardly room
to allow their plates a chance to find crevices for lodgment.
By this time the sun had set in a blaze of glory that called forth loud
words of sincere admiration from the entire party. Twilight was upon the
land as they sat down to enjoy that glorious spread; and both Rufus and
Alec vowed they had never in all their lives felt one-half so hungry as
right then and there.
That supper would never be forgotten by those tenderfoot scouts. Every
fellow once new to the woods can look back to the first meal under such
conditions, and remember how wonderfully good everything did taste. The
food at home never had such tempting qualities, and his one great fear
was that the supply would not be equal to the _enormous_ demand.
After supper came the dish washing. That was not quite so fine,
especially since Rufus and Alec had fairly gorged themselves. But Elmer
knew that it was good to start out right.
"Oh! what's the use bothering with the old dishes tonight?" complained
Rufus, spoiled at home by a doting mother; "I'm feeling too fine to be
disturbed. Please don't spoil it all by doing anything disagreeable,
Elmer."
His wheedling tone had no effect. The scout-master was determined that
these two new recruits must learn that duty always precedes pleasure
with a scout. After all work has been finished is the proper time to
"loaf," and take things easy.
"We have a rule in camp that is as unbending as that of the Medes and
the Persians, Rufus," Elmer went on to say, positively. "That is, the
dishes must be cleaned up immediately after supper, by those who are
delegated with the task. I'll be only too glad to show you and Alec how
to go about it, in case you haven't had any experience; but the pot of
hot water is waiting, and none of us can settle down to an evening's
enjoyment until things are cleared away. All of us mean to take our
turns at the job, remember, but we thought the new beginners ought to be
the ones to start first."
Rufus looked as though inclined to rebel. Just then Alec jumped up,
being more ready to give in than the boy who had always had his own way.
"Coom alang, Rufus, and we'll wrestle with the pots and pans!" he called
out. "Between the baith of us we should be able to manage, I ken. And
then for a lang evenin' listenin' to the stories Lil Artha, here, has
promised to spin, that will, nae doot, mak' Robert Louie Stevenson's
wildest tales tak' a back seat."
Well, after that Rufus could not hold out. He even grinned sheepishly a
bit as he got up from his comfortable position, and followed the Scotch
lad and Elmer over to where the dishpan was hung on a convenient nail,
together with a supply of towels, and several dish cloths, all seen to
by Lil Artha, who knew by long experience how necessary such things are
in a well conducted camp.
So by slow degrees Elmer and his mates might make progress in educating
the tenderfoot squad along the lines that every well drilled scout has
to follow. Of course they would meet with many discouragements, and
sometimes feel that the task was beyond their strength, especially in
connection with Rufus, who had allowed such a multitude of tares to grow
amidst the good seed that would have to be rooted out; but it is
astonishing how much persistence and patience will accomplish, and in
the end surprising results might reward the laborers in the vineyard.
They sat up late that night and the fire continued to crackle merrily as
fresh fuel was applied from time to time. How wonderful it all seemed to
Rufus and Alec, experiencing their very first night in camp. The moon
had already set, being young, and darkness hung over the scene. Strange
sounds, too, welled up out of that gloom to thrill the greenhorns as
they listened. Again and again did one of them interrupt the
conversation or the story-telling to demand that some fellow tell what
manner of queer creature could be making such and such a noise.
Now it was some night bird giving a hoarse cry; again a distant loon,
doubtless out upon some lake, the presence of which they had not even
suspected, sent forth a fiendish sound like the laugh of an evil sprite
and which chilled the blood in the veins of the tenderfoot scouts; later
on they heard tree frogs commence their weird chorus, and were relieved
to learn the nature of the noisy sounds, for they half suspected a
circle of ravenous wolves might be closing in around the camp.
And so it went on, one thing after another. Perhaps the most singular
effect of all was produced by the hooting of a big owl, doubtless
squatted in some dead treetop within a few hundred yards of the fire.
The two greenhorns really believed some man was calling out and making
fun of them. Rufus, on his part, jumped to the conclusion that the
poacher, possibly under the influence of liquor, was daring them to come
out and have a fight with him, for that tantalizing "whoo! whoo!" seemed
to breathe defiance and scorn. Alec, too, showed symptoms of "firing
up," much to the secret amusement of Lil Artha and George.
They both quieted down after being told what sort of a big-eyed bird was
responsible for the weird noise; though from time to time as the hoots
continued to be wafted to them on the night air, the tenderfoot scouts
would move uneasily, and exhibit fresh traces of interest bordering on
rank incredulity, since it was difficult for them to really believe any
feathered creature could indulge in such a mocking monologue.
And later still, after they had crept into their warm blankets, and
sought to go to sleep, while the three veterans after a while managed to
find forgetfulness in honest slumber, the other pair tossed back and
forth, changed their hemlock-filled pillows into new positions, sighed
dismally, and put in one of the most trying nights they had ever known.
But then it would not be so bad on the next occasion; and before many
nights passed they, too, would be "dead to the world a short time after
hitting the hay," as Lil Artha expressed it. Every fellow has to be
broken in before he can sleep, when camping out for the first time; the
great wilderness around seems peopled with countless unseen, but
nevertheless present, creatures, which his lively imagination pictures
as seeking to steal a march upon the camp, and either to purloin all
their possessions or else eat them alive.
Why, even experienced campers usually have a poor first night of it,
until they can again grow accustomed to the difference between their own
soft beds within the four walls of home, and this canvas covering, or
perhaps only the starry heavens above for a canopy.
That long night seemed never to reach an end, to Rufus at least; for
even after the Scotch lad had passed into slumberland the other squirmed
about uneasily, sat up and looked around him many times; and even crept
out twice to throw additional fuel on the fire, because he hated to see
it getting so dismally dark around, with all those queer sounds welling
up in chorus--the said chorus being produced in part, if Rufus only knew
it, which he didn't, by katydids, crickets, tree-frogs, and such
harmless little creatures.
But even the longest night must come to an end at last. Rufus, having
finally fallen into a doze, found himself aroused by some one talking,
and opening his eyes discovered to his surprise that it was broad
daylight, with breakfast cooking near by.