WHAT WOODCRAFT DOES.
After leaving the spot where they had drawn the three canoes into the
rushes, the little party started through the woods. Bumpus was very much
grieved to see the balance of the scouts go off without him. He did not
say anything; but his rosy fat face was eloquent enough, as he nodded in
turn to each one of his chums.
“Poor old Bumpus,” said Giraffe, to Davy, in a whisper, “he feels badly
cut up at not gettin’ a chance to earn that reward he’s had on his mind
so long. And you mark me, the first opening Bumpus gets, he’ll be buying
a gun, all right. He doesn’t like to be left out of the fun.”
As a rule they were supposed to keep absolute silence, and Giraffe knew
this, as did Davy. Hence the other only nodded in reply, and taking his
cue from this, the long-legged scout relapsed into quiet again.
But Giraffe was wide-awake. He meant to observe every little thing that
took place around him. With two such veteran guides as old Eli, and the
Indian, doubtless there would be more or less woodcraft displayed that
must be well worth treasuring up; because a Boy Scout cannot learn too
much along these lines.
And the first thing Giraffe noticed was the confident way in which the
leader started out. Why, he never seemed to bother his head in the least
as to what direction the cabin lay in. Giraffe marveled at this very
much. He realized that if the task had been left to him, he would have
had to cudgel his poor brains to remember all he had been told by Allan,
as to the various methods whereby woodsmen know what is north, when in
the dense forest, with the sun hidden from sight, and no compass along.
So Giraffe amused himself while he strode along as carefully as he knew
how. He attempted to picture himself in the rôle of guide to just such an
expedition, starting out to get to the cabin as quickly as possible, by
taking a short cut through the woods, rather than by following the
windings of the river.
What would he do first? Oh! yes, there was the bark of the tree to be
observed, and the fine green moss that grew only on one side, never all
the way around. He remembered that this moss was said to be almost
universally upon the north side of the tree, and that if it varied at
all, it leaned toward the northwest; because it was from that quarter
most of the severe wintry gales came.
But trees differ; and to his surprise Giraffe failed to find this moss in
the quantities he had expected. Evidently then pine trees are in a class
by themselves, he concluded.
But there were other ways of finding this out. How about the general
slant of the trees? Didn’t his instructor assure him that it only needed
one glance around, for an old traveler through the forests to tell where
north was? He would notice the slant of the trees, and if there were any
lying on the ground, observe the way they had fallen, when overturned by
the fierce wind. Why, that ought to be the easiest thing in the world;
and Giraffe was beginning to feel quite proud of the knowledge he
possessed when suddenly a very disquieting thought flashed through his
head.
He knew which was north, east, west and south all right; but how was that
to tell him where the old cabin lay? He might guess that in all
probability it was somewhere off to the southeast; but that was a pretty
big region, and the chances of his finding it might be set down as ten
against one.
Evidently, then, something else was needed besides the ability to tell
where the north lay. In fact, Giraffe was beginning to realize that a
good scout must keep a mental map of the country in his head. He may not
need a compass one-half so much as he has a use for constant wakefulness,
and the power of observation.
He should be able under such conditions as these to put a finger on a
certain point of the rude chart he draws, and say: “here’s where I am
right now, and there lies the cabin, exactly sou-south east of me; and I
can tell where that quarter is as easy as falling off a log.”
The more Giraffe got to thinking about this subject the more he felt
enthusiastic over it. Why, he had really never understood how intensely
interesting it was. And then and there the boy determined that he would
find out all about it. Allan knew, and Allan was only too willing to
instruct his fellow scouts in the arts pertaining to woodcraft.
Practical demonstration is worth many times over what a fellow might
learn from books. Take that Indian picture writing, for instance; a boy
might read about it, and think it rather interesting; but when taking
part in the game himself, puzzling his head over the meaning of the plain
pictures of men, animals, camp-fire smoke, canoes, tracks in the dirt,
and all such things, he would discover that is was intensely exciting,
and liable to beat any game of fox and geese he had ever indulged in.
All this while they were making fair progress on their way.
Sebattis never seemed to swerve once, except to avoid some obstacle. Why,
he was evidently as positive about his course as Giraffe might be when
walking along a street in Cranford. And doubtless, the trails of the
great pine woods were just as familiar to this dusky son of the
wilderness as those streets could be to one who had been born and brought
up among them.
Giraffe figured that they must be about half-way to the cabin by now,
though of course it had to be mere guess work on his part, since he had
no means of knowing the facts.
He did notice that Sebattis was growing a little more cautious. And also
that Thad, looking around just then as if to see how the others were
coming along, and catching the eye of Step Hen, put his finger on his
lips, as if in that way he would warn the greenhorn scouts to exercise
additional care.
It was certainly getting mighty exciting. Giraffe felt hot and cold by
turns; but he would not allow himself for one moment to believe that this
sensation had anything to do with the quality called fear.
He gritted his teeth, and put on a severe look. He would show them, if
the case came to a point where there must ensue a rough and tumble fight,
that because he had subscribed to the peace-loving rules of the scouts,
he could at the same time rise to a special occasion, when valor was
needed.
Why, this feeling was something the same as that which had attacked him
when about to fire his first shot at the big black bear. Allan had
described it to him once, when telling him how he must overcome the “buck
ague” upon getting his first chance to shoot a deer. And Giraffe was
determined to conquer himself now, so that he might not later on feel a
tinge of shame when speaking of the way they returned to the cabin, bent
on capturing the lawless hoboes.
Why, there was Sebattis bending low now, and advancing with redoubled
caution. They must surely be close upon the cabin; perhaps it was even in
sight, if one cared to raise his head above the tops of the bushes that
together with brushwood and dead treetops lay in the way.
No one could equal Giraffe in such a maneuver as this. Nature had given
him the advantage over his fellows when endowing him with that extra long
neck. And doubtless the shorter Davy, with his thick neck, envied
Giraffe, when he saw how easily the other surmounted difficulties in the
way of taking an observation, which were bound to prove a barrier to him.
Sure enough. Giraffe caught a fugitive glimpse of something that looked
like the back wall of the old cabin, for he saw neither door nor window.
How wonderful that the sagacious Penobscot brave could have taken them
directly there; and so far as he, Giraffe, had noticed, without once
feeling of the bark of the trees, or even sweeping one glance toward the
heavens.
Now that the Indian and Thad had dropped on their knees. Of course the
others were expected to do the same, and quickly did they follow suit. It
must be a part of the game; indeed, Giraffe would have been sorely
disappointed had they failed to go through this same experience. In all
the books he had read of forest trailing, and advancing upon an enemy’s
camp, it was absolutely necessary to go the last part of the journey on
hands and knees. And besides, it added vastly to the interest of the
thing, Giraffe thought.
So they crept along, getting gradually nearer and nearer to the cabin. So
far as could be seen, all was quiet around that place, just as they had
left it, in fact. If the hoboes had already arrived they certainly gave
no sign of their presence.
Perhaps Sebattis, with his wonderfully trained ear, was able to catch
slight sounds that would not reach some of the rest of them, bunglers at
best in the science of woodcraft. He seemed to be advancing with perfect
confidence; and yet at the same time Giraffe could not but notice that
the dusky-skinned Maine guide always kept his gun in a position for
instant use.
It made Giraffe remember what he had once read about the early Virginia
and New England settlers, pious men, all of them, to be sure; but
realizing that each was expected to do his part in taking care of home
and family. Giraffe had often repeated the words of their motto to
himself, and figured out just what it meant to say “trust in the Lord;
but keep your powder dry.” Sebattis felt perfect confidence in his
ability to reach the wall of the cabin unobserved; but at the same time
he was always ready for _accidents_.
But they were now about the end of the little creeping journey, for the
grim back wall of the trapper’s old weather-beaten cabin was at hand. One
by one the crawlers arrived, and ranged themselves as close as they
could, following the example of the two who had reached the goal first.
Giraffe was immediately conscious of some sort of movement within. It was
as if a party might be laboring at something that rather tried his
muscle; for besides the heavy breathing, there came a rustling noise, and
then mutterings.
“Gimme that piece of wood over there, Kimball,” a voice suddenly growled.
“This stone sure beats my time, the way she sticks. I never thort she was
half as heavy. Throw it acrost to me, if you don’t want to git up. Thet’s
the ticket. Now, will you be good, consarn you?”
It gave Giraffe a thrill. He seemed to guess that the speaker must be
working at the hearthstone, under which the scouts had found all that
wonderful plunder. What would happen when he discovered how the package
left there was only a false “dummy,” and that the bank loot had been
carried off? Before Giraffe could settle this at all in his mind, he
heard the man inside give a little shout.
“It’s all right, Kimball, I tell you! The stuff is here, under the stone,
and jest like we left it a year ago. They never once suspected, the
innocents, jest how near they was to a fortune. Things is atakin’ another
turn, and I reckon our hard luck’s skipped out. This knocks a big load
off my shoulders, believe me, Kimball!”