THE OLD TRAPPER’S CABIN.
“How’re we goin’ to get this game all the way to camp?” demanded Giraffe.
“Camp?” echoed Davy Jones, beginning to look alarmed, as he contemplated
the enormous bulk of the bull moose, and then imagined the lot of them
tugging and straining every nerve to drag it over the intervening ground.
“Now, just you hold on, there, Davy; don’t begin to feel one of them
cramp fits of your comin’ on, just because we have to work like pack
horses,” Step Hen remarked.
“Ain’t never thinking of such a thing,” said Davy, stiffening up again.
“You just think it’s funny, but if ever you got doubled up once, you’d
feel for me.”
In times past the Jones boy had been subject to queer fits that took him
all of a sudden, and doubled him up with a severe cramp. When he had one
of these, he was utterly helpless. They had saved Davy more than a few
whippings, in school and at home: and in this respect proved very
accommodating cramps. But latterly the boys suspected Davy had really
outgrown them; and that he was only threatened with a return of the
disease whenever there seemed to be some hard work to be done. Possibly
his active outdoor life, and that gymnastic desire on his part to do all
manner of athletic stunts had helped get rid of the trouble.
“But after all,” declared Thad, “I don’t think anybody is dreaming of
trying to carry, or drag the moose all the way to our camp. How about
that, Eli?”
The older guide, upon being appealed to in this fashion, remarked that
they would be foolish to think of such a thing.
“We kin cut it up right here in the mornin’,” he observed. “I guess yu
boys’d like to try a steak from the ole bull; an’ we’ll tote sum o’ the
meat along. An’ as fur the horns, I kin fix them all right. We’ll kerry
’em in one of the canoes, so’s ye kin show yer friends the kind o’ game
we has up here in Maine.”
That suited Thad just right. He wanted those towering horns very much,
and was only afraid there might be some objection to taking them along,
for they must weigh quite heavily.
So after a while the whole party started back to the camp, where a fire
was once more kindled, the night being cool, the guides felt the need of
warmth, since they would have no cover over them as they slept.
It was some time before the scouts could think of settling down. The
glorious success that had attended this first try at game worth while,
seemed to inspire the entire lot with an eager desire to emulate Thad’s
example. Why, even Bumpus seemed to partake of the fever to some extent,
though he had brought no gun along, and did not claim to be any sort of
sportsman.
When morning came at last the oldest guide went over, and started
operations on the dead moose. He took off the skin, and secured the horns
for the successful hunter, to be preserved as a trophy of the event.
Besides this, Eli brought back quite a lot of the best meat. The boys
were wild to see what moose steak tasted like; but although it aroused
their hunger while it was in process of cooking, still the best any of
them could do was to gnaw at their portion, for it was as tough as
anything they had ever struck.
“That’s where we missed it,” grumbled Giraffe, after giving up in disgust
all efforts to masticate some of his portion.
“In what way do you mean?” asked Thad, expecting the other would say he
ought to have selected a younger and more tender animal, when supplying
food for the camp.
“Why,” the tall scout continued, with a broad grin; “d’ye know, I said we
had ought to fetch that little meat chopper our folks at home use; and
the rest of you laughed at the idea. Just think, if we had it now, what a
fine hash we’d be enjoyin’ every day. That’s the only thing I know of
that could grind up this tough meat.”
It was rather later than usual that morning before they got started in
the canoes; there seemed so much to do. But in good time these various
duties were fulfilled. The guides did not appear at all anxious. They
seemed to feel satisfied that before a great while had passed, they would
get in touch with the party they were following; and meant that the boys
in their charge should enjoy some of the Maine hunting on the way.
Eli declared that he knew of another fine camping spot ahead, which they
would doubtless reach about dark. This was really an old and long
deserted cabin, once occupied by a trapper, who had taken his toll of
furs in the neighboring streams where once upon a time all manner of
valuable animals were plentiful, from mink, otter, marten, and even
beaver; while around the vicinity foxes used to be thick, not to mention
wildcats, an occasional panther, and even wolves; though these latter can
seldom be found within the limits of Maine at the present day.
The boys had had more or less experience in using log cabins for nights
lodgings; and they amused themselves as they pushed on, with
reminiscences of events that would always be interesting to them.
Of course there were times when the three canoes were some little
distance apart, but again they would come close enough together for the
inmates to have shaken hands, had the inclination to do so arisen.
At noon they stopped to eat lunch, and give the guides a chance to rest,
for the work of pushing up against that current was no child’s play.
Although the boys were ready to lend a helping hand, and “spell” the
guides from time to time, naturally the brunt of the work fell on Eli,
Jim and Sebattis.
“Did any of you hear a gunshot a little while ago?” asked Giraffe, when
the boats came together about the middle of the afternoon.
“He keeps on sayin’ he’s sure he did,” broke in Bumpus, who was in the
canoe with the tall boy, making “the long and short of it, or both
extremes meet,” as Bumpus himself often humorously remarked; “but neither
Eli nor I caught it. How about the rest of you?”
“Nothing doing here,” said Step Hen; and all the rest, even the stolid
Sebattis, denied having heard anything that sounded like the report of a
firearm.
“Which way did it seem to come from, Giraffe?” asked Thad, wondering if
after all the other could have caught a faint sound that escaped the
vigilance of the three guides; and thinking of Mr. Carson, of course, who
was ahead somewhere.
“Oh! about the way we’re goin’ I reckon,” replied Giraffe. “Just seemed
to ketch the faintest little boom; but Eli said as how he hadn’t heard
nothin’. The wind had died out at the time, but the air was still from
the north. I’m right sure it was a gun, even if Bumpus here does say I
had an idea, and it was such a new thing it hit me with a bump.”
The afternoon wore away, and the sun set without their having reached
their destination.
“Where’s your old and comfy cabin?” demanded Bumpus. “I’m tired of
sittin’ here so long, and I guess I’ll never be able to get straightened
out again.”
“Huh!” grunted Giraffe, “think of me, will you? Ain’t I near twice as
long? Ain’t I twisted up in a knot every which way? My legs took to
bendin’ so they’ll knock my knees together; or else look like hoops. How
much you got to complain about, you little dumplin’, Bumpus.”
“But Eli says we’re going on, and that we’ll make it not a great while
after dark sets in,” Bumpus remarked, scorning to enter into an argument
with the other on the subject of whether it paid to be long drawn out, or
else shut up in a small compass.
“Good for Eli, then; we can’t get there any too soon to suit me,”
declared Davy Jones, who was working a paddle in conjunction with Jim;
Allan having done more than his share of the work during various periods
in the afternoon just passed.
“Give us half a hour more, and we’ll sure git thar,” said Eli, later on,
when the shadows of coming night began to cover the river; and had
already swooped down in full force upon the adjacent woods.
They paddled along in silence, except when one of the boys managed to
splash in dipping or removing his paddle blade. Those who were new to the
work found that they had considerable to learn before they could expect
to work as silently as Sebattis, for example. The way the Indian would
sent the canoe forward with vigorous thrusts, and yet never removing his
paddle from the water, and making no sound whatever, was a never ending
source of delight to both Thad and Step Hen. And the latter tried
valiantly to imitate his example whenever he took the extra spruce blade
in hand.
Finally, when the half hour had about arrived at its conclusion, Eli gave
the tired voyagers a pleasant shock by suddenly calling out:
“Land here!”
The three canoes were enabled to find good places to run ashore, by means
of Thad’s precious little electric torch, which came in handy in scores
of different ways during the Maine expedition, and paid for itself time
and again.
Then, first of all, they found where the cabin lay. Eli seemed to know
all about it, and claimed to have spent many a night under the shelter of
its still fairly well preserved roof; though it had been two years now
since last he was here; for on the previous season he took a party along
another trail.
Giraffe insisted on starting a little blaze outside. He was always
thinking of some excuse for making fires; and in this instance nobody
quarreled with him, for they really needed some light in order to unload
the canoes, and carry the stuff up to the old cabin.
The door would not go more than half-way shut, but outside of this
defect, which was not so very serious, since the wintry blasts had not
yet set in, the log cabin seemed to offer a cozy shelter for the night.
Once they got inside, and Giraffe was set to work again, building another
fire, this time in the big fireplace, above which yawned the
wide-throated chimney.
The cabin had once been quite a pretentious place, in those old days when
the builder, perhaps with a trapper pard, spent his time here gathering a
heavy tribute of rich pelts from the native furry inhabitants of swamp
and river and forest.
Its roof was quite high, and the reason for this became manifest as soon
as any one entered; for it was found that there was a loft extending
halfway across, and which could be reached by a rude but still sturdy
ladder.
“Now, what in the dickens do you think he ever built that up there for?”
Step Hen said, as he started to ascend the ladder; and then, thinking
better of it, gave up the idea.
“A place to store his bales of dried furs, so Eli says,” replied Allan.
“You see, being up here for six months, constantly gathering in new pelts
every day, they increased rapidly, and took considerable space; so,
having plenty of room, he just ran that platform half-way across, and six
feet and a half from the floor down here.”
“Great stunt,” remarked Step Hen, but he made no further attempt to
ascend to the platform, his curiosity being satisfied.
And later on, Step Hen shook hands with himself because of that second
thought, considering himself a lucky boy, which indeed proved to be the
case.
There was more or less talking and laughing as they started preparations
for supper. The chimney seemed to draw poorly at first, possibly on
account of not having been used for so long. When it got warmed up,
perhaps it would “behave”, Eli remarked. Meanwhile there was considerable
smoke in the cabin, and more or less sneezing, as well as rubbing of
smarting eyes.
“Say, what d’ye mean, trying to choke us all, Giraffe?” demanded Bumpus,
who looked as though in great distress, as the tears were rolling down
his fat cheeks like “little Niagaras”, Step Hen declared.
“And I reckon, now, you just picked out the greenest wood ever, so’s to
give us a good dose of this?” suggested Davy Jones, also rubbing his
eyes.
Altogether the boys were making so much noise themselves that no one
could expect to hear anything else. That was the only reason Thad could
give, later on, why the keen ears of Eli or Sebattis had not detected
certain things that must have come to their knowledge had it not been for
this clamor, and rattle of merry tongues.
“Anybody think of having some more of that india-rubber steak for
supper?” sang out Giraffe, still working with the fire, which seemed to
be behaving a little better already, and gave promise of being all right
presently.
“Say, don’t everybody shout out at once. Put me down for baked beans
first, last and all the time,” declared Bumpus, seeking the vicinity of
the door in order to cool his heated eyes, smarting from the pungent
smoke.
“Hello! who’s rocking the old cabin like that? Let up, can’t you before
it goes over?” shouted Step Hen, standing in the doorway for air.
Possibly he may have thought it did go over, for just then some great
hairy object came tumbling down from the loft, making some use of the
ladder, but at the same time landing with a crash on the floor. Then,
before any one could so much as make the first move toward one of the
guns, standing in a corner of the cabin, this lumbering object hustled
over to the half-open door, and bowled through, upsetting both Step Hen
and Bumpus in its passage.
For a second or two silence followed, and then a tremendous shout broke
out:
“Great smoke! did you see it?” whooped Giraffe, jumping to his feet.
“Who hit me?” gurgled Bumpus, who had crashed into the wall of the cabin,
and was sitting there on the floor, looking dazed.
A head was thrust in through the half-open door, and Step Hen shouted:
“It was a great big black bear, and he just went and kicked me out of the
place, fellers!”