WELL-EARNED PRAISE.
It was just as Hugh had expected.
The launch was turned so that her head pointed upstream again, but out
there, in the middle of the river, the current proved to be so strong
that, although the motor worked madly, they gained very little headway.
Even when Hugh crept in closer to the shore, where they might have a
better chance to proceed, he realized that it was hopeless trying to get
back to town under several hours.
As the night was now ready to close in upon them, the danger of meeting
with an accident warned the careful pilot against attempting anything
like this.
“Keep on the lookout for a good tying-up place, boys,” he told them. “If
you see a tree close to the water, and what looks like a little cove
below it, that’s the spot we want to stop at.”
“And let’s hope,” added Billy, sighing, “that there’ll be a hospitable
farmer, or some sort of kind-hearted man with a house up on the hillside
where we can beg a bite to eat.”
“There are all sorts of pots and pans and kitchen things aboard,” Monkey
told them, “if only we can lay hold of anything to cook.”
“Leave that to me,” remarked Billy loftily, determination written on his
face.
The landing was effected without any particular trouble, and with the
cable they tied the launch up to the friendly tree, as well as made the
boat fast astern.
Billy hardly waited for this to be done before he was off. Evidently he
had discovered that they were close to the river road, at this point
well elevated. Tip had told him that people lived here and there all
along this thoroughfare, although very likely they could not get
anywhere now, with the water so high, for in places the road must be
covered ten feet or more with the flood.
The night began to creep around them, but there was no rain, for which
all of them thought they had reason to be thankful.
Upon questioning the boy who had been taken off the floating cabin, Hugh
learned just how it happened that he came there. He had been away from
home when his folks must have fled because of the rising water. Coming
back later he had not known what to do, but remained cowering in the
home until the rising water caused him to take to the roof. And later
on, when the current started the cabin downstream, there he was
helpless, because he did not know the first thing about swimming.
“You’d have known that at any rate if you’d been a scout,” Hugh told
him, always ready to plant the seed broadcast, “though that mightn’t
have helped you much. It was lucky you stuck to the cabin. We’ll see
that you get back with your folks all right, Tommy, never fear. I’m only
wondering what your mother will be thinking when she misses you.”
“There comes Billy!” cried Monkey Stallings, excitedly. “Say, he looks
as if he might be just loaded down with stuff. Chances are he found a
deserted house, and made a raid on the pantry.”
“That’s where you’ve got another guess coming,” said Billy Worth, as he
started to relieve himself of his numerous packages. “By the greatest
good luck in the wide world I hit on the house of a gentleman named
Judge Coffin. Seems that he’s been one of your best backers, Tip, here
in Lawrence. When he heard what the scouts had been doing he told me the
house was mine, and that I could have anything I wanted. Fact is, he
loaded me down with good things; and he’s coming over here to eat dinner
with us in an hour!”
Tip threw up his hat and crowed as though he might be an exultant
barnyard rooster that had just whipped his worst enemy.
“Oh! what luck!” he exclaimed. “Everything seems to be coming my way. I
think you Oakvale fellows must have brought it along with you. ‘It never
rains but it pours,’ and I don’t care if I haven’t any umbrella either.
Let’s get busy and give the judge the best camp supper he ever heard
about.”
“We can do that, too, Tip,” intimated Monkey. “This fellow Billy Worth
has all the French _chefs_ beat to a frazzle when he gets to slinging
the pots and pans around. You’ll think so after you get a whiff of his
cooking.”
“That’s a whole lot taffy, and don’t you take any stock in it, Tip,”
protested the said Billy. “Course I like to cook some, and, if I do say
it myself, I know how to do a few plain things fairly decent. But we’ll
all lend a hand. Here, Monkey, you start the ball rolling by peeling
these potatoes, while I look after the fire aboard the boat, for
everything is soaked out here.”
The owner of the launch must have delighted to take little excursions on
his boat, for he had everything on board that would be needed for
getting up a meal, even to a three-burner blue-flame kerosene stove that
worked splendidly, Billy soon discovered.
In spite of all they had gone through, the boys entered into the duty of
getting up that supper with the greatest of vim. And when later on an
elderly gentleman, whom Tip introduced to them as Judge Coffin, made his
appearance, he found the meal ready to be served.
He was a man whose heart had always remained fresh, and who loved boys,
although his twin sons had been cruelly taken from him years before
through an accident, simply because no one with them had known the first
thing about reviving a person who had been in the water until he seemed
to be drowned.
Judge Coffin firmly believed that had the comrades of his boys been
posted as all scouts of to-day are on these important methods of
resuscitation, one or both of his precious twins might have been spared
to him. And that was the secret of his belief in the scout movement as a
means of saving life.
There on board the launch, and while enjoying such a supper as he had
not sat down to for many years, no doubt—primitive though the table and
the tin dishes may have been—he listened while the scouts modestly told
what a great day they had had.
And, reading between the lines, that astute lawyer could easily
understand how the coming of Hugh Hardin to Lawrence just when the
breaking down of the railroad embankment brought about his enforced stay
there had been the main cause for all this service on the part of the
local scouts.
How his eyes shone as he looked fondly at the boy who had dashed upon
the imperiled bridge and saved the reckless bully, Tug Wilson, as Tip
persisted in telling the story, despite Hugh’s remonstrance and
embarrassed manner. No doubt Judge Coffin was saying, deep down in his
heart, that had his boys only lived he could not wish anything grander
for either of them than that they might take pattern after this brave
yet modest scout from Oakvale.
Long he lingered—indeed, it seemed hard work for the worthy gentleman to
tear himself away from the company of those four gallant boys.
“Have no fear, Tipton,” he said, as he shook the hand of each after
bidding them “good-night” for the third time, “there are bright days
ahead for you and your comrades of Lawrence Troop. When such a scout
hater as Neighbor Jasper has had the scales lifted from his eyes, all
opposition is bound to cease. A reaction is going to set in, and you’ll
have more recruits applying for admission to your ranks than you can
well take care of.”
All of the scouts voted the judge one of the finest men they had ever
met. He seemed to have a faculty for entering into the inmost recesses
of a boy’s heart, and finding lodgment there.
“How are we going to manage for to-night?” asked Tip Lange, some time
after the judge had taken his departure, and they began to feel more or
less sleepy.
It turned out that the Lawrence scout had had very little experience in
camping. He and his comrades of the local troop had met with so many
backsets in their efforts to build up an enduring organization that
their outings had been few and unhappy.
Hugh had been thinking this over himself, and now expressed his views.
“I suppose we might manage to sleep aboard the launch, though it would
be a tight squeeze for us all. Two might do it comfortably, and the
others camp ashore.”
“What’s to hinder all of us spending the night here on the bank?” asked
Tip; “I know I’d enjoy it a whole lot better than being cooped up on the
old launch.”
“My sentiments exactly,” declared Billy; “and to tell you the truth I’m
getting so sleepy right now I hardly care where I drop down, so long as
I’m let alone.”
“How about you, Monkey?” demanded Hugh.
“Oh, all I need is a tree with a decent limb to the same! You know I’m
something like a bat or a ’possum, and I c’n hang head-down from a
branch without any bother. Count me in any game you’ve got on the
calendar.”
“That’s settled, then,” asserted Hugh.
“There are some blankets and robes in the lockers of the boat, you
know,” suggested Billy, as he scrambled to his feet to stretch himself
before starting aboard the launch again.
When a thorough search had been made it was found that there were plenty
of covers for the entire quartet.
“Couldn’t be better if we’d planned for this little camping trip,”
remarked Monkey, as he began to look around for a good place in which to
make up his bed, such as it was going to be.
“The song of the flooded river will be a regular lullaby,” suggested
Hugh.
“It may be to you fellows,” observed Tip; “but I own up that I’m not
used to going to sleep in the open, and it’s likely to keep me awake. If
I do manage to drop off, the chances are I’ll dream of poor people
hanging to the roofs of houses that are floating down the river and
falling to pieces.”
“You can stand it for one night, though, Tip,” Billy told him.
“Besides, it’s going to be an experience for you worth having,” Monkey
told him. “When you meet your chums again you can crow over them.”
“That’s right,” admitted Tip, as he watched closely to see how the
others fixed their blankets, so that he could imitate them.
“One good thing,” remarked Billy, after another tremendous yawn, “this
isn’t like being up in the wild woods where a bear or a panther might
take a notion to drop in on us.”
Hugh knew that Billy was saying this to get an opinion from some of the
others. Perhaps he was feeling a trifle uneasy over sleeping there in
the open.
“I don’t think there’s any danger of our camp being invaded by an animal
more dangerous than a wandering cow that might have got lost in all the
excitement,” Hugh assured him.
Billy seemed to be satisfied with that convincing statement, for
presently he crawled under his blanket.
“Good-night, fellows!” he said in a thick voice as if already half
asleep.
Tip looked as though he really envied Billy his indifference. Just as he
had said it would very likely prove a difficult task for the new camper
to lose himself in slumber.
Hugh waited until all the others had apparently settled down. There was
the fire to look after, for with so much dampness in the air he did not
think it advisable to let it go out entirely.
That was where his long experience in camping would prove valuable, for
Hugh knew just how to arrange the fire so that it would burn for hours
at a stretch without needing replenishing.
Finally he, too, crawled under his coverings and settled down as best he
could to get some sleep, of which they were all in such need.
They had had a pretty lively day of it considering, and it was little
wonder Hugh felt more or less tired.
The noisy flood might continue to boom and gurgle as it rushed along
near by, but that would not keep the patrol leader from slumber. Many
times in the past he had experienced worse conditions and refused to be
kept awake.
The last thing he remembered noticing was the crackling fire sending its
red tongues upward as it seized upon the fresh fuel.
Hugh awoke with a start, and no wonder. Someone was calling aloud, and
the burden of his cries were of a nature to cause alarm:
“Hugh! oh! Hugh, wake up! There’s something raiding our camp! It tried
to carry me off!”
That was Billy whooping it up, as Hugh discovered when he rolled out of
his blanket.
Monkey Stallings was already on his feet, being a wonderfully agile
chap. He had looked around in his quick fashion, and not discovering any
terrible tiger or other beast of prey in sight, naturally turned on the
disturber of his peace.
“You’ve gone and got the nightmare, that’s what’s the matter, Billy
Worth!” he told the other. “It’s a nice state of affairs when a fellow
can’t get his sleep out. I knew you’d pay for eating so much supper. You
just dreamed it all. I’d like to see what’d try to carry _you_ off!”
Billy, however, was firmly convinced that it had not been a dream but a
positive reality.
“Guess I ought to know,” he declared; “didn’t I feel it lifting me up,
and growling like everything in the bargain? First I was scared so I
seemed to be turned into ice. Then I let out that first whoop.”
“Oh, then it ran away, did it?” sneered the unbelieving Monkey.
“Just what it did,” asserted Billy.
“Did you see it, Billy?” asked Hugh, determined to sift this midnight
alarm to the bottom while about it.
“Why, Hugh,” Billy went on to say, “I had a little trouble getting my
cover away from my face, for I’d snuggled down in the same to keep my
head warm. But as sure as I’m standing here, Hugh, I saw the bushes
moving over there, like some terrible animal had gone that way. Let’s
throw some stones and scare him off!”
“No need of that,” said Hugh, with a chuckle, as he picked up a club and
then started directly toward the quarter pointed out by Billy.
“Take care, Hugh, or he might get you!” warned Monkey, at the same time
casting about for the duplicate of the cudgel the patrol leader had
taken as a weapon of defense.
“Shoo!” cried Hugh, waving his arms vigorously as he approached the
bushes.
As though that cry and the accompanying movement had broken the spell of
silence there came a whole chorus of grunts both big and little. There
was also a great scurrying of feet, together with squeals that could
have but one meaning to the scouts.
“Pigs!” gasped Billy, as a mother sow followed by half a dozen little
porkers started off in a panic, rushing pell-mell away, and followed by
the mocking shouts of Monkey Stallings.
“So that’s your tiger, is it, Billy?” he demanded as he prepared to once
more crawl into his coverings; “Well, you certainly have got the
liveliest imagination of any fellow I ever met. The idea of taking a
poor old mother hog with her litter of suckling pigs for a monster
trying to carry you off.”
“Well, she did root under my blanket, I tell you,” Billy insisted; “and
being waked up so suddenly, how could I tell the difference between a
grunt and a growl? I only hope she stays away the rest of the night and
lets a poor tired scout get his regular sleep.”
Apparently it would require much more than an occurrence of this sort to
keep Billy wakeful. Inside of ten minutes Hugh could hear his regular
breathing, from which he concluded the other was again off to the land
of dreams.
The balance of the night passed without any further alarm. Perhaps Tip
did not secure much sleep, and was the happiest fellow in the party to
see the gray dawn coming in the east. Still, it had been a great
experience for Tip, and one he would not soon forget.
All of the boys were soon up and doing. While two of them saw to it that
the blankets and other coverings were returned to the launch, the others
looked after the preparations for their morning meal which, thanks to
the generous judge, would not be as primitive as it might have been.
After they had eaten breakfast, the start was made up the current.
Monkey had been smart enough to fix some sort of tally so as to know how
high the river rose while they slept.
“Just seven inches, fellows,” he had announced the first thing; and
then, as the expedition was about to leave their moorings, Monkey
declared with considerable delight: “Would you believe it, the water is
actually _going down_! Sure it is, for here you can see where the stick
is wet for an inch above the level!”
“Bully!” cried Tip. “Things will soon be on the mend, and poor old
Lawrence will get back to looking like it was before the flood, all but
our bridge, which is gone where the woodbine twineth.”
“Never mind about that,” said Billy, “so long as none of your folks went
downstream with it.”
They found it slow work breasting the current, but then, as a rift
appeared in the leaden clouds overhead, everyone was soon feeling
greatly encouraged.
“There’s the judge waving to us!” said Tip, and of course everyone
hastened to reply to the salutation from the high ground back of which
the home of their good friend lay, safe from danger.
All through that day the scouts found plenty to do with the launch. And
many a mother and father had reason to thank them warmly for attentions
received that were doubly welcome in such a time of stress.
Hugh kept his word and saw to it that Tommy was safely returned to his
family, thus relieving the fears of the father and mother, who had begun
to believe the little fellow had been drowned.
As there still seemed to be no way of getting back home unless they went
by aëroplane, Hugh and Billy and Monkey had to remain over for another
day or so, nor did they feel sorry that this happened. Monkey had
interested his uncle in his two chums so that nothing would do but they
must be his guests while in town. Tip Lange felt somewhat disappointed
for he had hoped to coax them to go home with him.
But on the second day word came that the repairs had progressed so far
with the washed portions of the railroad embankment that a train would
pass through Lawrence early that afternoon bound east.
It was at the station, as our three young friends, together with Tip
Lange, Wash Bradford, Teddy McQuade, and Wallie Cramer, were waiting for
the train to appear that quite a crowd of older people, as well as all
the rest of the Boy Scouts in town surprised them. At the head of the
delegation was the worthy Mayor of Lawrence. When Hugh saw them coming
he began to show signs of uneasiness; but there was no place to which he
could retreat, nor would the other fellows allow it.
And so he had to stand there and listen to as neat a flood of oratory as
could be imagined, as the Mayor told him, and his two chums in the
bargain, that they carried away from Lawrence the best wishes of all
those who dwelt there.
“Your visit was in the nature of an inspiration,” the Mayor wound up
with. “It has certainly put new life into our local troop of scouts. We
owe you more than mere words can tell, and in leaving us we want you to
know that you will never be forgotten. Your noble work here in the time
of our tribulation will always stand as a living example of what Boy
Scouts can accomplish when their hearts are in the cause.”
Fortunately the coming of the train allowed Hugh to escape without
making a reply to this flood of praise that came straight from the heart
of the speaker. And the last they saw of the Lawrence scouts they were
lined up and giving their comrades from Oakvale the grand salute, with
Tip Lange at their head.
Later on Hugh heard from the boys, and was delighted to know that the
troop was flourishing like a green bay tree. There arrived at Hugh’s
home a loving cup purchased by donations from scores of Lawrence
citizens, and which was accompanied by a letter which might well cause
the recipients to feel proud they had been given an opportunity to be of
service to the victims of the Great Flood.
If you want to know what undertaking next employed the attention of
these wide-awake Oakvale lads, read the succeeding volume, entitled:
“The Boy Scouts of the Field Hospital.”
THE END.
Transcriber’s Notes
--Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public
domain in the country of publication.
--Silently corrected palpable typos (including once exchanging the order
of two entire lines); left non-standard spellings and dialect
unchanged.
--In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the
HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)
End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts in the Great Flood, by Robert Shaler