BACK TO THE WOODS CAMP
Steve had a fairly well developed stubborn streak in his nature, and he
certainly did hate to give a thing up, once he had got started. Worst of
all was the fact of their being compelled to acknowledge defeat through
a miserable wildcat; had it been a panther now, a tiger, or a lion, he
might bow to the inevitable with a good grace; but cats, in his mind,
were always to be associated with the night-singing Tommies at home, for
which species he felt a contempt that could best be displayed by a rock
thrown from a bedroom window.
"Shucks! I hate to do it, but just as you say, Jack, the beast is set on
drawing a regular dead line ahead of us, which we can't pass without a
fight. So when you're ready give the word and we'll quit cold. I'll
never feel like telling any of the fellows at home, though, how two of
us were forced to turn tail by just one measly cat."
"We might sit down here for a spell, and see if the brute will slink
away," suggested Jack, evidently also averse to giving up so easily.
"Good idea," agreed Steve; and accordingly they found a convenient log
upon which they could rest while waiting to see how the plan worked.
Time passed, and Steve kept his face turned toward the spot where the
last savage snarl had been heard. He had a vague suspicion that perhaps
the beast might try to stalk them, just as he had seen a domestic tabby
do a sparrow at home.
When fully ten minutes had crept by Jack made a slight move.
"Well, we can't hang out here much longer," he was saying; "already the
afternoon is so far along that I'm afraid we'll never be able to get
back to camp before dark sets in. Let's make a move, and test things."
Hardly had they done so than once again they heard a repetition of those
warning growls. Jack shrugged his shoulders and laughed drily.
"We hear you, old lady with the claws!" he called out, "and we
understand that you are still on the job. It looks like she didn't mean
to lose sight of two such suspicious appearing chaps as we seem to be.
Well, our cake is dough, and we might as well acknowledge ourselves
beaten."
"Oh! why didn't we fetch our gun along, Jack?" sighed Steve, looking
angrily toward the spot from whence the warning snarls had volleyed at
them. "I'd give every cent in my savings bank for the chance to knock
that critter over. What use are pesky wildcats anyway? They live on game
birds and rabbits most always. If I had my way I'd clean out the whole
bunch of them, kits as well as mother cats."
"Well, we can't do anything along that line this trip," Jack told him.
"So say what you've got on your mind to the lady, and let's clear out.
These woods belong to her this afternoon, and we've got no business
here."
"I don't mean to waste any more of my precious breath on the silly
beast," grumbled Steve, as he turned his back toward the spot where the
unseen enemy lay concealed in the scrub.
Jack headed toward the open space along which they had formerly been
walking. He had been wise enough to keep this in mind when trying to
circumvent the obstinate feline enemy that refused to let them pass.
Once they found their trail, and it would be an easy matter to follow it
toward camp.
They had lingered longer than either of them seemed aware. This fact was
presently brought to their attention by the growing gloom of the woods
around them.
"Why, Jack, the sun has gone down, I do believe!" exclaimed Steve,
suddenly.
"No, it isn't time for it to set yet," his chum advised him. "We can't
make sure of it, but I wouldn't be surprised if a bank of heavy clouds
has risen in the west, and hidden the sun behind it. One thing certain,
we're going to have the fun of tramping several miles through a dark
woods."
"Well, so long as there are no rattlesnakes around this section of
country, that won't make much difference with me," Steve assured him.
"Yes, and I might add I hope that mother cat is the only specimen of her
race up here, too. It would be tough on us to run across another holdup,
so we'd be between two fires."
It grew constantly darker. Undoubtedly Jack must be right about the
heavens having clouded over in the west. Steve found another source for
worry. This time it did not partake of the nature of animal foes.
"Say, wouldn't it be a joke on us now, Jack, if a regular old drencher
came on, and soaked us to the skin? I'm listening in expectation of
hearing the mutter of thunder in the distance. After all, this wonderful
day seems bent on bringing us face to face with a number of queer
happenings. There, was that a growl of thunder then, or could it be
another of those queer blasts we heard before?"
"Neither, I reckon, Steve. I think it was only the wind rising, and
making a moaning sound among some treetops. I've heard it call out in a
way to make you think some poor fellow had been caught under a falling
tree, and was being slowly crushed to death. Yes, there it goes again,
you notice."
"But doesn't it sound spooky, though?" ventured Steve, looking hastily
over his right shoulder for luck. "Does that spell rain to you, Jack?"
"I hardly like to say, but it wouldn't surprise me if we did have a
spell of it before morning," the other went on.
"I only hope then it'll have the decency to hold off till we're safe
back in camp again," Steve ventured. "That tent is guaranteed to shed
water in the hardest downpour. Mr. Whitlatch, the town photographer, has
tested it many times and promised that it would not leak a drop; only
you've got to keep from touching it when wet with your fingers, because
that's a bad thing to do, and may start a drip."
Both boys found themselves bending over more than at any previous time
during the return journey. This was all on account of the gathering
darkness, for with the passage of every minute the task of seeing their
tracks was becoming more difficult.
"This thing is getting pretty tough," wheezed Steve, finally. "I've got
fairly decent eyes, but I own up they're going back on me pretty fast
trying to pick up our trail of the morning. How far away are we from
camp, do you reckon, Jack?"
"An hour's tramp yet," he was told with an assurance that surprised
Steve. "If you're wondering how I can tell, I'll show you. Don't you
remember our stopping to take a good look at this queer twisted tree
that seems to be trying to make its straight neighbors support it? Well,
I remember that we were just about one full hour out when we got here."
"It takes you to notice everything, Jack. I never once thought to pay
any attention to our time when we were going, except to count the hours
until it would be near noon, and feeding time."
"What about that snack you saved over?" chuckled Jack, who knew what the
answer was bound to be, because he had often seen Steve nibbling on the
sly.
"Gone long ago, every crumb of it," came the frank admission, "and right
now there's beginning to crop up a strong desire for more grub. I hope
Toby thinks to have supper all ready for us when we do get in."
Steve was limping more or less now as he trailed along behind the
leader. He felt tired, and that heel bothered him again; besides,
sheltered by the friendly darkness he thought he was at liberty to
shuffle along in any old fashion that offered him the most comfort.
"We'll ease up on the eye strain a bit for one thing," Jack was saying
as he fumbled at one of his pockets.
Suddenly a brilliant shaft of white light shot out ahead of them. Steve
gave utterance to a startled cry, in which delight was mingled with
surprise.
"So you fetched along one of those hand-electric torches, did you,
Jack?" he exclaimed. "Well, a flashlight never had a better chance to
make itself useful than right now. It's going to be a picnic from here
on. I can see every little twig and blade of grass; and as for our
trail, a fellow could follow it with one eye shut. Thank goodness! our
troubles for the day are ended; unless it comes on to rain cats and dogs
before we get under shelter."
He cast frequent anxious glances aloft whenever the trees were open
enough to allow of a view of the sky. There were no stars visible, as
must have been the case had it not clouded over; because the hour had
grown late enough for an exhibition of the usual heavenly display.
"I hate to say it, Jack, but I really thought I felt a drop right then,"
Steve remarked.
"We can stand it all right, if we have to," commented the other, as
though determined not to be cast down by such a trifling happening. "I
have a hunch that it won't amount to much, if it rains at all. What's a
little wetting between friends, tell me? And neither of us happens to be
made of sugar or salt. This sort of thing lends variety and spice to an
outing in the woods. It would be too monotonous if every single thing
just happened as we planned it. Besides, we have gone half an hour since
leaving that twisted tree."
"Jack, just then it seemed to me I could glimpse some sort of a light
ahead of us. Toby might have built a roaring fire, to cheer us up as we
came along the back trail. Yes, there I could see it flame up again,
over the trees and against the background of the clouded sky. We're
getting close to home, thank goodness!"
"I agree with you, Steve, for I saw it just as you said. Toby, like a
good fellow, has started up a big fire. He must be getting a bit anxious
about us by this time, and you can't blame him much. No one likes to be
left alone in camp all day, and then have a dark night come along, with
prospects of a storm, too."
"Shall I give him a shout, Jack? It'll ease the poor fellow's mind
some."
"Just one whoop, then, Steve. He'll understand, and can be finishing
supper while he waits. How about that rain now; have you felt any more
drops?"
"No, I own up I haven't," confessed Steve, "and mebbe I was mistaken
about thinking as I did. Queer how things somehow do manage to clear up.
Often what we dread never happens at all. That old cat didn't tackle us,
though I felt sure she would; the storm hasn't caught us yet, if I did
count on getting soaked through; and there lies the camp before us," as
a sudden turn in the trail allowed them to catch a glimpse of a still
distant fire that seemed to leap upward wildly.
The thought of soon arriving at the end of their long tramp gave both
lads additional vigor, so that they actually increased their pace, and
made better time in the last half mile of the journey.
Toby could be seen bustling about as though he had heard Steve's whoop,
now and again he would stand and shade his eyes with his hand as he
stared into the darkness over the fire. Thinking to add to his peace of
mind Jack flashed his light several times as a signal, which he knew the
other would understand, for Toby had been with him when the hand-torch
was purchased, and knew all about it.
Finally they reached the camp. How welcome did the sight of the big
khaki-colored tent, that cheery campfire, and the friendly wagon
standing close by seem to the eyes of the tired stragglers as they
stalked in and threw themselves down on the ground to rest.
"Supper all ready, fellows, just when you say the word," cheerily
chirped Toby Hopkins; "but if you're overly tired you'd better take
things easy a bit before eating."