AT THE BEAVER POND
The second day in camp promised to be very nearly as full of action as
that lively first one had been. Every scout had half a dozen things he
wanted to do; so, acting on the advice of Paul, each made out a list,
and thus followed a regular programme.
Jud, having learned that there were partridges about, set off with his
shotgun to see if he could bag a few of the plump birds.
"Don't forget there are ten of us here, Jud!" called Spider Sexton,
"and that each one of us can get away with a bird."
"Have a heart, can't you?" remonstrated the Nimrod, laughingly. "Cut
it down to half all around, and I might try to oblige you. Think of
me, staggering along under such a load of game as that. Guess you
never hefted a fat partridge, Spider."
"I admit that I never _ate_ one, if that suits you, Jud," replied the
other, frankly.
Paul on his part had told Tolly Tip he would like to accompany him on
his round of the traps on that particular morning.
"Of course, I've got an object in view when I say that," he explained.
"It is to take a look at the beaver house you've been telling me
about. I want to take my camera along, and snap off a few views of it.
That will be better than nothing when we tell the story."
"Count me in on that trip, Paul," said Spider Sexton. "I always did
want to see a regular beaver colony, and learn how they make the dam
where their houses are built. I hope you don't object to my joining
you?"
"Not a bit. Only too glad to have you for company, Spider," answered
the scout-master. "Only both of us are under Tolly Tip's orders, you
understand. He has his rules when visiting the traps, which we mustn't
break, as that might ruin his chances of taking more pelts."
"How can that be, Paul?" demanded the other.
"Oh! you'll understand better as you go along," called out Bluff, who
was close by and heard this talk. "Sandy Griggs and I learned a heap
yesterday while helping him gather his harvest of skins. And for one,
I'll never forget what he explained to me, it was all so
interesting."
"The main thing is this," Paul went on to say, in order to relieve
Spider's intense curiosity to some extent. "You must know all these
wild animals are gifted with a marvelous sense of smell, and can
readily detect the fact that a human being has been near their
haunts."
"Why, I never thought about that before, Paul," admitted Spider; "but
I can see how it must be so. I've hunted with a good setter, and know
what a dog's scent is."
"Well, a mink or an otter or a fox is gifted even more than the best
dog you ever saw," Paul continued, "and on that account it's always up
to the trapper to conceal the fact that a human being has been around,
because these animals seem to know by instinct that man is their
mortal enemy."
"How does he do it then?" asked Spider.
"You'll see by watching Tolly Tip," the scout-master told him.
"Sometimes trappers set their snares by means of a skiff, so as not to
leave a trace of their presence, for water carries no scent. Then
again they will wade to and from the place where the trap is set."
"But in the winter-time they couldn't do that, could they?" protested
Spider.
"Of course not, and to overcome that obstacle they sometimes use a
scent that overpowers their own, as well as serves to draw the animal
to the fatal trap."
"Oh! I remember now seeing some such thing advertised in a sporting
magazine as worth its weight in gold to all trappers. And the more I
hear about this the stronger my desire grows to see into it. Are we
going to start soon, Paul?"
"There's Tolly Tip almost ready to move along, so get your gun, and
I'll look after my camera, Spider."
At the time they left Camp Garrity it presented quite a bustling
picture. There was Bobolink lustily swinging the axe and cutting some
wood close by the shed where a winter's supply of fuel had been piled
up. Tom Betts was busying himself cleaning some of the fish taken on
the preceding day. Jack was hanging out all the blankets on several
lines for an airing, as they still smelled of camphor to a
disagreeable extent. Several others were moving to and fro engaged in
various duties.
As the two scouts trotted along at the heels of the old woodsman they
found many things to chat about, for there was no need of keeping
silent at this early stage of the hike. Later on when in the vicinity
of the trap line it would be necessary to bridle their tongues, or at
least to talk in whispers, for the wary little animals would be apt to
shun a neighborhood where they heard the sound of human voices.
"One reason I wanted to come out this morning," explained Paul, "was
that there seems to be a feeling in the air that spells storm to me.
If we had a heavy fall of snow the beaver house might be hidden from
view."
"What's that you say, Paul--a storm, when the sun's shining as bright
as ever it could? Have you had a wireless from Washington?" demanded
Spider, grinning.
"Oh! I seem to _feel_ it in my bones," laughed Paul. "Always did
affect me that way, somehow or other. And nine times out of ten my
barometer tells me truly. How about that, Tolly Tip? Is this fine
weather apt to last much longer?"
The guide seemed to be amused at what they were saying.
"Sure and I'm tickled to death to hear ye say that same, Paul," he
replied. "By the powers I'm blissed wid the same kind av a barometer
in me bones. Yis, and the signs do be tilling me that inside of
forty-eight hours, mebbe a deal less nor that, we're due for a
screecher. It has been savin' up a long while now, and whin she breaks
loose--howly smoke, but we'll git it!"
"Meaning a big storm, eh, Tolly Tip?" asked Spider, looking a bit
incredulous.
"Take me worrd for the same, lads," the woodsman told them.
"Well, if your prediction comes true," said Spider, "I must try to
find out how to know what sort of weather is coming. I often watch the
predictions of the Weather Bureau tacked up at the post office, but
lots of times it's away off the track. Bobolink was saying only this
morning that he expected we'd skip all the bad weather on this trip."
At mention of Bobolink's name, the trapper chuckled.
"'Tis a quare chap that same Bobolink sames to be," he observed. "He
says such amusin' things at times. Only this same mornin' do ye know
he asks me whether I could till him if that short tramp's hand had
been hurted by a cut or a burrn. Just as if that mattered to us at
all, at all."
Paul did not say anything, but his eyebrows went up as though a sudden
thought had struck him. Whatever was in his mind he kept to himself.
When they arrived at the marsh where Tolly Tip had several of his
traps set he told his companions what he wanted them to do. Under
certain conditions they could approach with him and witness the
process of taking out the victim, if fortune had been kind to the
trapper. Afterwards they would see how he reset the trap, and then
backed away, removing every possible evidence of his presence.
Both scouts were deeply interested, though Spider rather pitied the
poor rats they took from the cruel jaws of the Newhouse traps, and
inwardly decided that after all he would never like to be a gatherer
of pelts.
Later on Tolly Tip led them to the frozen creek, where they picked up
a splendid mink and an otter as well. Shrewd and sly though these
little wearers of fur coats were, they had not been able to withstand
the temptation of the bait the trapper had placed in their haunts,
with the result that they paid the penalty of their greed with their
lives.
Finally the trio reached the pond where the beaver lived. It was, of
course, ice covered, but the conical mound in the middle interested
the boys very much. Paul took several pictures of it, with his two
companions standing in the foreground, as positive evidence that the
scouts had been on the spot.
They also examined the strong dam which the cunning animals had
constructed across the creek, so as to hold a certain depth of water.
When the boys saw the girth of the trees the sharp teeth of the
beavers had cut into lengths in order to form the dam, the scouts were
amazed.
"I'd give a lot to see them at work," declared Paul. "If I get half a
chance, Tolly Tip, I'm going to come up here next spring if you'll
send me word when they're on the job. It would be well worth the trip
on horseback from Stanhope."
Upon arriving at the camp toward noon the boys and their guide found
everything running smoothly, and a great deal accomplished. Jud had
not come back as yet, but several times distant shots had been heard,
and the boys were indulging in high hopes of what Jud would bring
back.
"You musn't forget though," Paul warned these optimists, "that we're
not the only pebbles on the beach. There are others in these woods,
some of them with guns, and no mean hunters at that."
"Meaning the Lawson crowd," remarked Bobolink. "Your statement is
quite true, for I've seen Hank do some mighty fine shooting in times
past. He likes nothing so much as to wander around day after day in
the fall, with a gun in his hands, just as old Rip Van Winkle used to
do."
"Yes," remarked Jack, drily, "a gun in hand has served as an excuse
for a _loaf_ in more ways than getting the family bread."
"Hey!" cried Bluff, "there comes Jud right now. And look what he's
got, will you?"