ELKHORN CABIN
All that week the members of Troop Five could talk or think of little
else save the wonderful log-cabin which was to arise like magic on
the shore of Crystal Lake. That, at least, was the way many of them
pictured it as going up, but at the meeting on Monday night Mr. Curtis
gave a little talk in which he pointed out that the undertaking could
only be carried through by a good deal of hard, persistent labor, which
would undoubtedly grow more or less tiresome before the end was reached.
"Saturday is really the only day when we can all get together," he said,
"and there won't be many of them before the snow comes to put a stop
to things. If we mean to enjoy it this winter, we've got to give every
spare minute of our time to the work. There can't be any slowing down or
backing out. Now, if you'd rather wait till spring, when we can take
things more easily--"
"No, _sir_!" came in a swift, united chorus of protest. "We want to start
now. We want to have it this winter."
The scoutmaster smiled a little. "That's the way I feel myself," he
said; "so we'll consider that part settled. We'll meet here, then,
next Saturday morning at half past eight, prepared to put in a strenuous
day. I'll tell the different patrol-leaders what tools are needed, and
they can look them up during the week. There's another thing. We'll
have to buy considerable material, such as cement, boards for the floor
and roof, window- and door-casings, and the like. That money should be
earned by the troop, and I think it would be a good plan for Ward,
MacIlvaine, and Phelps to meet at my house to-morrow afternoon or
evening to discuss ways and means. Is that agreeable?"
It proved to be, when the question was put to vote and decided
unanimously in the affirmative. The meeting ended with the enthusiasm
over the project unchecked by this placing of it on a strictly methodical
and businesslike basis.
That enthusiasm continued throughout the week, and when the crowd
assembled on Saturday, Bennie Rhead, who was housed by a bad cold,
was the only absentee. The others, laden with axes, saws, hatchets, an
adz or two and some wide wood-chisels until they resembled a gang of
pioneers, were in high spirits and eager to begin work. Their interest
was heightened by the production of a plan Mr. Curtis had drawn up,
showing a cabin twenty by sixteen feet, with a big stone fireplace
opposite the door, two windows, and a double tier of bunks, one on each
side of the entrance.
During the week the scoutmaster had gone over the ground with Mr.
Grimstone and marked certain trees which were to be taken out, mainly
white pines from six to eight inches in diameter that were too closely
crowded to develop properly, so there was no delay in starting work.
Immediately on reaching the point, the entire troop was divided into
groups of three or four, each under the leadership of a boy who knew
how to handle an ax. As soon as he felled a tree the others trimmed off
the scanty limbs, sawed it into proper lengths, and stacked these up in
piles on either side of the glade.
By noon the piles had assumed such proportions that after luncheon half
of the wood-cutters were called off and set to notching the ends of
the log, about eight inches from the end, and this was work in which
everybody could take part. The notches were made on opposite sides of the
log, about eight inches from the end, and were a quarter the thickness of
the timber in depth. The logs averaged pretty much the same diameter, so
that, when fitted together at right angles with the under notch on one
side resting in the upper notch on the other, the whole length was snugly
in contact, with scarcely any chinks to be filled in.
"That's the great advantage of pine," said Mr. Curtis, when he had
explained the method to the boys. "Almost any hard wood will have bumps
and twists in it, but the trunks of pines growing as thickly as these
are practically straight from one end to the other."
"Are we going to build up the four walls solid, and then cut holes
for the door and windows and fireplace?" asked Paul Trexler, who had
evidently been reading up on the construction of cabins.
The scoutmaster shook his head. "That's the way many of them are made,
but I could never quite see its advantage. It's a mean job, sawing the
openings, and the full-length logs are lots harder to handle than shorter
ones, to say nothing of the waste of timber. Of course there'll have to
be full-length ones under and over the windows and over the door; but
if we measure accurately, there's no reason why we shouldn't leave these
openings as we go along, and so save time and labor. Spiking the door-
and window-casings to the logs will hold them together firmly enough."
The cabin had already been staked out, and when, presently, the lower
logs were set in place it was amazing what a difference the sight of
that simple rectangle made. Instantly the visualizing of their dream
became nearer and more concrete to the boys, its possibilities more
apparent. They could see at a glance its size and shape and spaciousness.
Entering through the door space, one could say that here would be the
bunks, there the windows, and that gap opposite, the fireplace. It
stimulated every one to renewed efforts. Blisters and tired muscles
were forgotten in the eager desire to get another tier of logs into
position. When Mr. Grimstone stalked into view, toward the middle of
the afternoon, he was greeted by urgent invitations to "Come ahead and
see how the cabin's going up!"
The old man responded stiffly, but it was impossible to maintain that
attitude long in the face of the boisterous, whole-hearted enthusiasm
of twenty boys. Inside of ten minutes he was chuckling over the awkward
efforts of one scout to handle an adz and showing him the proper method.
Within an hour, one would never have known him for the crusty, crabbed
recluse who had been at odds with the Hillsgrove boys for more than a
generation. He had shown the scouts a splendid place to get rocks for
the fireplace, and told them how to make, with two poles and some
cross saplings, a sort of litter for carrying the larger ones; he had
made the rounds of the wood-choppers and watched them interestedly,
criticizing, suggesting, and even cracking a dry joke or two at their
expense. But his interest seemed to center in the building operations,
to which he finally returned. When Mr. Curtis followed him a little
later, he paused at the edge of the glade, a quiet smile curving his lips.
The old man stood amid a group of boys who were notching the logs. He
had evidently been showing them some improvement on their methods, for as
the scoutmaster stood there, he heard one of them say: "Is that right,
Mr. Grimstone? Is that the way you mean?"
The old man nodded. "You've got it, son; you'll find that'll save you
a lot of time."
"Say, Mr. Grimstone," piped up Harry Vedder, from the other side of the
cabin, "won't you come over here, please?"
"You wait a minute, Dumpling!" admonished Bob Gibson. "I'm next. He
promised to give me some points about fitting 'em together."
The scoutmaster's smile deepened as he came forward. "I guess I'll have
to appoint you building foreman, Mr. Grimstone," he said. "Looks as if
you knew a lot more about log-cabins than I ever will."
From force of habit the other frowned, but his eyes were twinkling. "I'd
orter, I reckon," he returned. "I built enough of 'em when I was loggin'
up state. If it wan't for this pesky arm--"
"That needn't interfere. You won't have to lift a finger. The boys are
only too ready to work when they know how. Seriously, if you could
oversee the building part, it would help us a lot. Then I could give
all my time to getting out the logs, cleaning up, and looking after the
chimney."
"I s'pose I can," observed the old man, briefly. "I ain't fit for much
else jest now--an' the sooner you're done, the sooner the mess'll be
cleared up."
So it was arranged, and the following Saturday found Mr. Grimstone
promptly on the job. There was no question of his pleasure in the work,
in spite of the occasional grumblings to which he gave vent in odd
moments when he was not entirely lost in the novel occupation. To these
the boys paid scant attention. They seemed to realize that they were
merely superficial and really meant nothing, and from the first they got
on admirably with the old man. They even joshed and joked with him, and
before long he was retorting with sundry dry comments that sent them
off into shouts of laughter.
Under his supervision the cabin grew apace. When the logs were all cut
and carried in, Mr. Curtis devoted himself mainly to the stone chimney
which, though necessarily slower and more difficult work, progressed
very well. The opening was made to take four-foot logs, and the stone
facing filled up more than half that end of the cabin. The boys could
not wait for its completion to give it a baptism of fire. When the
sides were up three feet or more, they kindled a blaze and cooked lunch
there--the first meal to be prepared in the cabin.
Another celebration marked the setting of the ridge-pole; and when the
roof was laid, it seemed as if the end was actually in sight. In the
meantime, the important detail of earning money to pay for necessary
materials had not been lost sight of. It had been decided that the scouts
should go about this either singly or in groups, as they preferred. A
number of suggestions were made by Mr. Curtis, but it was impressed
upon the troop that there must be no appeal for either work or money
in any way that would in the least savor of begging. Whatever they did
must be real work, the sort that people wanted done whether or not a
scout cabin was in process of erection; and they must always give value
received.
The methods resorted to seemed endless. Three boys who were adept with
saw, hammer, and plane undertook the building of bird-houses, and their
products were so well made and attractive that they had a hard time
filling orders. Others raked up lawns, tended furnaces, cleaned cellars,
sawed wood, and did a score of other varied chores. One entire patrol
took up the subscription proposition of a big publishing-house and
devoted themselves to it with such ardor that they cleared up nearly
as much as all the rest together.
It can safely be said that few members of the troop had many spare
minutes in the month that followed the starting of the cabin. There was
no time for sports or games or reading stories. The public library was
deserted. Of course there were a few who tired of the constant pressure
and managed to escape a Saturday's labor by some flimsy pretext, but, on
the whole, they stuck to it with remarkable perseverance. And when the
last stone was in place on the chimney-top, the last chink filled, the
last nail driven, there wasn't a boy in all that twenty-five who didn't
feel a thrill of proud achievement at the result of their united efforts.