CAMP LIFE
After a long march through magnificent forests, along winding streams,
up and down the sides of steep hills, the boys and their leader
and the guide reached Pioneer Camp late the following afternoon.
A rousing welcome awaited them, and almost the first news they heard
was that Tom Sherwood had been elected leader of the Otter patrol,
during Alec Sands' absence.
Tired as he was, Tom received this information with due appreciation
of the honor. He was glad to hear also that the troop was getting
up a baseball game for the morrow, to be played by two teams chosen
from all four patrols. In this way he hoped to be able to tell just
who were the best players in his patrol and who needed coaching for
future games.
As Pioneer Camp was nearer Oakvale than his farm, Ralph knew he
could learn the decision of the railroad officials sooner than if
he had stayed at home. He had sent word to the village postmaster,
asking him to forward all letters to Pioneer Camp until further
notice, and meanwhile he waited in feverish suspense. So much
depended on the surveyors' report!
The second evening of Ralph's visit to Pioneer Camp was given over
to verbal "examinations" on the subject of geological surveying.
To create real fun in the competition, Lieutenant Denmead conducted
the test like an old-fashioned spelling school. The various patrols
were lined up in open opposition, and the boys were increasingly
interested as one by one they missed some question and retired from
the ranks in laughing confusion.
Finally the light of the campfire revealed only four up-standing
contestants: Tom Sherwood and Sam Winter of the Otter patrol, Bud
Morgan of the Wolves, and Blake Merton of the Hawks.
"They can't faze Blake," whispered Walter Osborne, hugging himself
joyfully, as once again Blake gave a calm and sure rejoinder to the
Scout Master's query.
"No wonder!" replied Don Miller. "He has had all this practical
work over at Ralph Kenyon's!"
"What's the matter with Bud Morgan?" asked Arthur Cameron. "He makes
me proud to be a Wolf! He has always been loony over surveying,
you know."
Just at that moment Sam Winter joined the boys who were looking
on at the finish.
"Welcome to the company of the honorably defeated, Sammy," called
Dick Bellamy softly. "And here comes Tom!" he added. "Now it
lies between Bud and Blake.---hush! What is the Chief saying?"
"As a final test, I will ask each of these boys to write a list
naming the twenty mineral specimens that Mr. Rawson has collected
in the last two days," announced Lieutenant Denmead. "The list
that is most nearly correct will give the troop championship for
the course of study to its writer."
Profound silence fell upon the eager group around the campfire as
Rawson brought out his box of specimens, with paper and pencils for
the boys.
At the end of ten minutes the lists were claimed and soon after
Rawson handed to the Scout Master the successful paper.
Bud Morgan had won the competition,---and the Wolves howled in glee!
Not to be outdone, the Hawks, led by Walter Osborne and Blake
Merton, lifted their voices in a shrill "_Kree-kree-eee_," which
rose piercingly above the Wolves' "_How-ooo-ooo_!" Then the Otters
and the Foxes added their characteristic cries to the din, and
away off in the shadows where the contagion of the noise penetrated,
Indian Joe gave vent to a warwhoop of delight.
"Much noise---sound good!" he muttered to himself. "Don't know what
all about. Never mind. Boys glad. See 'em go!"
The whole troop, glad indeed to have a legitimate excuse for lusty
activity after the mental exercises of the evening, had jumped to
their feet _en masse_, and, headed by the howling Wolves, were
parading joyously around the campfire.
Bud Morgan was borne on the shoulders of the leaders, and there was
nothing to suggest the student of rocks and rivers and undulating
hills in his happy abandon to the situation.
In fact, the majority of the boys had already forgotten the contests
in the temporary excitement and the uproar.
Lieutenant Denmead, after exchanging a word and a good-humored smile
with his assistant, hurried to his cabin, and returned a moment
later with a small volume in his hand. Then, at his signal, Mr.
Rawson lifted the camp bugle, which he had secured hastily, and
blew the assembly call.
At that, the boys, quite ready to quiet down again after their
outburst of overflowing spirits, dropped into line with the promptness
of long practice and awaited their Scout Master's word.
"Be seated, Scouts of Pioneer Camp," he directed, returning their
salute and seating himself on his favorite log. "In the few minutes
remaining before 'taps,' I wish to emphasize the meaning of the
business and the fun of the evening. I am gratified by the interest
you have shown in our field work and in these tests, but I am
satisfied that we can add to the introductory knowledge that we have
gained a more practical and helpful course.
"This is what I propose: First, I will give you two weeks of 'summer
school' training in geology and surveying under the tutelage of a
young man who is a thoroughly trained geological surveyor. He was
recommended to me by my friend Mr. Brett of the B.N. and C. Railroad.
The young man, Ransom Thayer, is willing to come to us on one
condition. He has been technically trained, and he insists upon
strict attention to the matter in hand and strict school discipline
in return for his services. He has arranged a schedule of hours
both for camp study and recitation and for practice in surveying,
and has left ample time, also, for recreation, such as swimming and
ball-playing.
"His proposition appealed to me as being both generous and just, and
I had confidence enough in the Scouts of Pioneer Camp to accept it
on the spot!"
A spontaneous cheer burst from the boys at this point.
"Well, tell me, do you like the idea?" urged the Scout Master
smilingly.
"Now, boys, tell him!" cried Walter Osborne, springing to his feet
and facing the troop.
"Let her out! Now!"
"Rah! Rah! Rah!" yelled the scouts, jumping to their feet.
"Rah! Rah! Rah! _Lieutenant Denmead_!"
"_Kree-kree-eee_!" shrilled the Hawks. "_How-ooo-ooo_! _Yap-yap-yap_!
_Skee-eee-eee_!" barked and squealed the others.
As the Scout Master raised his hand, silence fell upon the company
again.
"The plan for the two weeks of study is only preliminary," the
lieutenant continued. "Following that, we will organize the patrols
into four squads of geological surveyors. Each squad will be given
two days to make an accurate geological survey of a section
previously selected and surveyed by Mr. Thayer. The scouts will note
its dimensions, the quality of its soil, the height of its hills,
the extent of its valleys, the growth of its vegetation, its
stratified zones, its mineral deposits,---in a word, whatever
points Mr. Thayer shall designate to you in his course of study
under the head of the 'geological survey,' is to be included in an
accurate report, neatly recorded and finally submitted to Mr.
Thayer for his marking.
"And last of all a system of 'points' will be established for the
course, by which the patrols may be credited for certain accomplishments
in the line of this particular training, in addition to the points
won by the neatness and accuracy of the reports. The patrol winning
the highest final rating will be given the title: Official Geological
Surveyors to the Troop!"
As the Scout Master made this elaborate announcement in his most
grandiloquent manner, the boys responded laughingly, clapping their
hands appreciatively, but uttering no word.
"That is all for to-night, boys," resumed Lieutenant Denmead after
a moment, "but it will give you food for thought and a subject for
your dreams! Details will be posted soon, and, meanwhile, let your
enthusiasm grow.
"This little book in my hand will have to keep its story to itself
for to-night, as the hour is late; but to-morrow I will read to you
a brief account of a national hero who found a knowledge of
surveying a great help to him in his military capacity. Good night,
boys."
"Good night, sir!" came the hearty response.