HOME AGAIN
The three scouts intended stopping long enough at the lonely shack in
the woods to look about, and see that they had forgotten nothing. All
of them declared they had had the time of their lives, and would
certainly never be apt to forget the remarkable experiences that had
come their way.
"There she is!" exclaimed Bud, pointing ahead.
"The cabin, you mean," Ralph added, as he, too, caught a glimpse of
the familiar shack which had given them such friendly shelter. "And
it looks as quiet and peaceful as can be, too."
"Why, what else would you expect?" Bud asked him. "Hugh, didn't we
close that door when we came away; seems to me I can remember doing
the same, after you told me it was best?"
"You certainly did pull it shut after you," Hugh quickly replied.
"Well, it's part way open right now, you can see for yourself if it
isn't," Bud asserted strenuously.
"That's right, it is, Bud."
"I wonder if the wind could have done it," the other mused. "It
does play some queer pranks, I happen to know from past experiences.
Guess that fastening is a bad one, and don't hold worth a cent."
"It's too late for us to bother fixing anything now, Bud," said
Ralph; "though to tell you the truth I always thought the door held
as tight as anything."
"Then what opened it, do you think?" demanded Bud, as they continued
to approach the shack, the soldier who was accompanying them to take
back the horse interested in what they were saying.
"I don't know, if you ask me point blank," Ralph admitted, frankly.
"It might have been that you didn't fasten it the right way. Then
again p'raps some one has passed along here, and stepped in to see
if there was anything worth taking."
"Whee! I hope that last isn't the right answer," was what Bud
hastened to observe; "I've got a few little things there I'd hate
to lose, let me tell you. Now, if you come right down to---oh! Hugh!"
"What's the matter with you?" demanded the one whose name had been
uttered so wildly.
"Didn't you see that---where were your eyes that you didn't see what
poked out of the open door just then?" cried Bud, coming to a complete
standstill in his astonishment and perplexity.
"I'm sorry to say that I didn't happen to be looking that way just
when you spoke," Hugh admitted. "But tell us what it was you saw,
Bud!"
"A head! A bear's head!" exclaimed Bud.
"That begins to sound interesting," said Ralph, as his face lighted up.
"But Ralph, you said there were no bears around here any more, so how
could that be?" Hugh asked, as he turned on the other.
"Hardly that, Hugh; I told you I had never happened to run across
one while trapping up here; but there was a time when they were said
to be thick around this section; and who knows but what one may have
wandered back, to see what the country promised him in the way of food."
Bud began dancing up and down in new excitement.
"We did leave a lot of grub in there, fellows," he told them; "and
chances are that the old black sinner has gone and spoiled what he
couldn't eat. That's a habit with bears, I'm told; they're about as
bad as hogs that way."
"Well, what are we going to do about it?" asked Hugh, looking
around at his two chums.
"We've got a gun!" suggested Bud.
"But we didn't come up here to do any hunting, and besides, scouts
as a rule don't go around gunning for game," said Ralph.
"Hugh," said Bud, trying to appear cool and collected, "you've got to
decide this for us, because I look at it one way, and here's Ralph
saying it wouldn't be right for us to try and plug this old bear.
Will we just try to shoo him away, or give him a few cold chunks \
of lead?"
Hugh smiled and nodded to Ralph.
"You lose this time, Bud," he said, "because I'm siding with Ralph
here. If we were really hungry and in need of food, of course I'd
say we had a right to get fresh meat; but we're on our way home now,
and seems to me it would be a shame to spoil all our splendid sport
by being cruel to a poor old bear that doesn't know any better than
to gobble flour and anything else he finds lying around loose."
Now Bud was a good loser. Perhaps after all he did not really feel
as ferocious as he pretended; and to tell the truth might have been
sorry if Hugh had sided with him, so that war was declared upon the
hairy invader of the shack.
"How'll we get him out of there?" he proceeded to ask. "If he knows
a good thing when he tastes it you bet he won't be in any hurry to
leave."
"How about you going in and telling him his room is better than his
company?" asked Hugh.
"You'll have to excuse me this time, I'm afraid," Bud quickly announced.
"I pass it up to Ralph here; he knows more about the way of animals in
a minute than I do in a year."
"Can you fix him up, Ralph?" questioned Hugh, turning to the boy who
had studied animals so long that he might be looked on as an authority.
Ralph was always willing to oblige.
"To be sure I can, and will, Hugh," he hastened to say, with one of
his rare smiles. "The rest of you stay back here, and when he once
gets clear of the door start to shouting as loud as you can."
"Which is to add to his alarm, I suppose?" suggested Hugh.
"Just about what it is," and saying no more, Ralph started for the
cabin.
They noticed that he did not approach from the front, and this
explained that Ralph had no intention of trying to enter the place
while it had a hairy occupant.
He had first gathered up something and made a bundle of it under one
of his arms.
Bud, looking closely, believed that he knew what the other scout had
collected.
"Dead weeds, as sure as anything! Bears don't eat dried weeds, do
they? If he had 'em dripping with wild honey p'raps it might do the
business, because they say bears go crazy when they get sniff of
honeycomb."
"All of which is true enough, Bud," Hugh told him; "but when you think
Ralph expects to coax the bear to come out, you're barking up the
wrong tree. It's my opinion force would be a much better word,
because he means to compel him to vacate."
"Now you have got me guessing, Hugh; If you know, please take me
into the game. There, Ralph's climbing up where the roof is lowest.
It wasn't much of a boost for a fellow as active as he is. What
d'ye think he'll do next?"
"Make for the chimney, unless I'm away off, which I don't think I am.
There, you see he's up already. What does he seem to be doing now,
Bud?"
"Why, I declare if he isn't crunching all that dry stuff down the
old chimney! Oh! now I've got it, Hugh! He's going to smoke the
bear out!"
"I shouldn't wonder but what that is just what he expects to do,"
chuckled Hugh; "and let's watch and see how it works. Ralph knows
how much alarmed a bear will always get after smelling smoke. It
seems to be a part of his nature to dread anything that has to do
with fire. And in case he has had to hustle at some time in the
past to save his bacon from a raging forest fire, of course it's
all the worse. But Ralph is getting ready to put a match to the
dry stuff he has in the chimney. After he has it smouldering good
I reckon he'll give the same a kick, and send it down into the
fireplace. Then watch him clap that short piece of board on top
of the clay chimney, forcing all the smoke to ooze out into the
cabin, filling it full."
Both boys, and the soldier as well, kept their eyes glued upon
the figure of the scout on the roof of the cabin. Ralph was taking
his time. He usually did his work very systematically, and could
be depended on to make a complete job of anything he undertook.
"There, it's beginning to come out of the door, the smoke, I mean!"
exclaimed the anxious Bud.
"I want to get a snap-shot of the event when the bear rushes out,"
said Hugh; "because there are a lot of fellows these days who want
to see the proof every time you tell them a story that seems out
of the common run. The light is good right now, and I believe I
can make a fair picture, with Ralph pressing his board down on the
chimney-top, and the smoke oozing out around him. Now to see how
much the prowler can stand for."
"He peeked out just then, and must have seen us, Hugh, because he
pulled in again," Bud shrilly cried. "Guess he don't think much
of human beings. He must have had some experience with the little
shooting sticks they seem to just point straight at him, and then
with the cough he feels an awful pain. P'raps he's a better
smoker than you think. What if he just declined to run the
gauntlet as long as we stand here."
"It's only a question of time," Hugh assured him. "He can only
stand for so much, and then he'll make the rush, no matter what
happens."
"The smoke's coming out thicker and thicker, let me tell you,"
Bud continued, fairly dancing in his nervous excitement. "If
he can stand that much longer I'll believe he's a regular old
salamander."
"He won't," Hugh assured him. "He's pretty nearly all in right
now. Twice we've seen him peek out as if he wanted to get the lay
of the land, so he could make his rush. The third time he's apt
to come. So everybody get your breath ready to let out a whoop
that'll make him think the end of the world has arrived for keeps."
"Look! there he comes, Hugh!"
Even as Bud said this a bulky object rushed headlong out of the
cabin door. It was the bear, doubtless already half-blinded with
the bitter smoke that smarted his eyes and created a panic in his
mind.
Immediately the two boys and the soldier set up a series of whoops
that made the forest ring. Ralph, too, joined in, and waved his
hat from the roof of the cabin, even as Hugh pressed the button, and
snapped off the lively scene, with the frightened bear in full retreat.
Bud outdid himself in shouting, he was so tickled over the success
of Ralph's plan. Twice he raised the double-barrel shotgun belonging
to Ralph, which the other had placed in his hands for safe-keeping
before starting to evict the unwelcome guest who had taken to using
their shack during their temporary absence. Of course after what
Hugh had said, about not wanting to injure the bear, backed up as
he had been by the third scout, it was far from Bud's intention to
pull either trigger, and wound the poor beast. But just like most
boys he wanted to boast afterwards as to what "terrible things" he
could have done had he cared to take the trouble.
The bear must have received more or less of a shock, what with the
smoke, and that volley of shouts greeting his appearance outside
the cabin; for the way he galloped away was indeed comical.
Hugh laughed heartily, and then as Ralph jumped off the low roof of
the shack to join them, he complimented the one-time trapper on his
knowledge of Bruin's weak spots.
"Oh! that's an old story," Ralph declared. "You never want to
forget that all savage animals, except, perhaps the two-horned
rhinoceros, which of course we don't have in this country, are
afraid of fire. With a blazing torch you can pass safely through
a woods where half a dozen hungry panthers are jumping about through
the trees following you, but nine times out of ten not daring to
make a leap as long as you swing that fire stick around your head."
"Is that so?" Bud remarked; and then quickly added: "But how about
the tenth time, Ralph?"
"Oh! well," said the other, with a chuckle, "I guess they might take
chances of the fire, and get you the tenth time, Bud. But it's the
best thing you can ever do if you're besieged by wolves, or any
wild animals."
"Well," Hugh interrupted, "now that our unwelcome visitor has
taken his departure, and the cabin can be entered, let's get what
truck we have left there together, and be heading for the road."
They found that the bear had made inroads with regard to some of
their provisions, but as they happened to be homeward bound it did
not matter much. The rest of the things they gathered up, and were
again ready for a continuance of their journey home.
Once more they were on the tramp. Having nothing to carry, made
things very easy for all hands. The miles they had to cover before
reaching the road that would take them back to town did not appall
them in the least, for they were used to making long hikes; besides,
they had so much to talk about that almost before realizing it
they had arrived at the first sign of civilization in the shape
of the turnpike.
Half a mile down this road was a farmhouse, where Hugh fancied they
might hire some sort of conveyance to take them home. If this
could not be had, possibly the up-to-date farmer had telephone
connections with town, and over the wire they might influence the
owner of the livery stable to send out a rig to take care of them.
They were spared this long wait, however, because luckily enough
the farmer happened to be going in town for supplies and readily
made terms with the scouts to carry them and their bundles.
So they said good-by to the soldier in khaki belonging to Uncle Sam's
Flying Corps, and were soon passing along the homeward road.
No doubt that farmer pricked up his ears and did considerable eager
listening, when he began to hear what his three passengers were
talking about. Never having seen an aeroplane in all his life,
and having only a faint conception of the wonderful uses to which
the fliers could be put, the tiller of the soil gasped many times
when he heard these mere lads tell of their feelings when half a
mile up in the air.
And when later on he chanced to discover from words let fall by
Bud, that the several packages in the back of the wagon contained
a miniature aeroplane, the old man cast more respectful glances
back at them. He also changed his manner toward the scouts, and
even addressed Hugh once as "Mister Hardin."
In good time, long before the sun gave token of setting, they
arrived in town; and Bud was made happy in seeing his precious
miniature flier safely deposited at his own door. He still had the
look of one whose mind was soaring away up in the clouds and Hugh
did not have the heart to disillusion him just then. There would
be no harm done in letting poor Bud dream a little longer before
giving him that rude if necessary jolt.
Hugh was more than satisfied with the result of their latest expedition.
Neither he nor Bud, at the time they started out, could possibly have
dreamed of the remarkable experiences that were fated to come their
way. It had only been to enjoy one more little outing before winter
came along in earnest and to learn what the scout inventor had
accomplished, that had induced Hugh to go forth immediately after
eating his turkey at the Thanksgiving feast.
And there was Ralph, who also had obeyed an inward mentor urging him
to spend a day or so with his gun in the region where he had in
times past trapped many a little fur-bearing animal, whose glossy
coat he covet coveted as a means of eventually paying for his tuition
in the School of Mines. He had only expected to wander in some of
his familiar nooks, and perhaps to knock over a few quail to tempt
his sick mother's fickle appetite; but see what had come out of such
humble beginnings!
When the scouts had their next weekly meeting, Hugh thought it worth
while to give the troop some description of the events that had come
the way of himself and his two chums. He purposely avoided more
than casual mention of Bud's invention, because he had found a
chance to bring the other down from the heights where he had been
sailing, and Bud now knew that he had made his bright discovery
"a mile too late," as he himself expressed it, looking exceedingly
downcast at the time.
Of course the three were looked upon as the luckiest fellows ever
known by the rest of the troop present. Others among the boys had
experienced some notable things since joining the troop and assisting
the rival armies in the field of maneuvers as signal corps operators;
but nothing that had come their way as half as wonderful as being
taken up in a genuine war aeroplane and being given a wild ride
through the clouds.
What Hugh had to tell about the two foreign spies also excited the
delighted interest of Billy Worth, Arthur Cameron, Walter Osborne,
Blake Merton, Don Miller, Cooper Fennimore, "Spike" Welling, Alec
Sands, Sam Winter, Dick Bellamy, Tom Sherwood, Ned Toyford and Jack
Durham, all of whom were present. They asked him many questions,
and seemed never to tire of hearing about how the army air pilot
had fired those volleys of small bombs down at the skulkers, actually
driving them from the field for good.
A week later when Hugh met Bud Morgan on the way to school, he saw
from the way in which the other looked at him that in some sense
the die had been cast.
"What's doing now, Bud?" asked the patrol leader, possibly guessing
what the answer would turn out to be.
"Smashed her into flinders this A.M.," replied Bud, firmly.
"I reckon you must mean that aeroplane model of yours," ventured
Hugh.
"And you hit the bull's-eye plumb center when you say that, Hugh.
I just made up my mind that I was too young to bother my brains
over a man's work and go to high school at the same time. My
lessons aren't any too good as it is, and they'd get so rotten bad
soon I'd be sent home with a note to my dad. I've been trying to
find out where I got that idea of the stability device, and finally
discovered an article about the Wright invention tucked away in one
of my books. Must have read it once and then forgotten all about
it, so there's how I fooled myself into believing the idea was
original with me. Served me right, too, but, anyhow, she worked,
Hugh, didn't she?"
He grinned as he made this last triumphant observation, and Hugh
shook him by the hand to show how sorry he felt for the disappointed
inventor.
"Worked like a charm, Bud," he remarked; "and if the famous Wright
brothers could have seen what you did, after only glimpsing the
article long ago, they would have said, just as I do, that you
deserve a heap of credit, that's what."
"Well, I'm done with the whole business right now," Bud continued
firmly. "Find that it gets too much of a hold on my mind to bother
with while I'm still going to school. Day and night I couldn't
think of anything but monoplanes, cylinders, drag brakes, propellers,
guy wires, wing-tips, levers, barographs, barometers, searchlights,
volplaning and all such stuff. It was wearing on my mind, you see.
I even dreamed of flying, and came near taking a header out of my
bedroom window that would have given me a broken leg, or twisted my
neck so I could see both ways to Sunday. So I called it off, and
threw up the sponge for keeps."
"I think you were wise to do it, if you kept worrying over things
like that," Hugh told him, as they walked along together to school.
Lieutenant Fosdick continued to show considerable interest in the
young leader of the Wolf patrol. He had even asked Hugh to write to
him occasionally, and promised that as opportunities arose he would
reply to each and every communication. He knew that he could
describe plenty of adventures, which of course always come thick
and fast to the men in the Army Flying Squadron, even during times
of piping peace.
When Lieutenant Denmead came back from his trip and heard that his
old friend had been in the vicinity, he declared himself very much
disappointed not to have had a chance to see Fosdick again. Of course
what Hugh had to relate concerning the warmth of the greeting given
himself and two chums in the aviation camp pleased the Scout Master
considerably, also.
"I can see that you met some exciting times up there in the woods,
son," he remarked, "and so please begin right at the start and tell
me everything, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem in
your eyes. I'm just in the humor to enjoy a rattling tale of
adventure."
He admitted, after Hugh had finished his recital, that he got it, too;
for there was much to thrill the nerves of even such an experienced
army man as he, in the narrative which the boy spun, every word of
it absolutely true.
Winter set in soon afterwards, so that the scouts were not able to
take other outings. They had to content themselves with their weekly
meetings in the club rooms, but they laid out a vigorous campaign for
the next season. That is always considered the proper thing for
scouts to do, to map out their plans ahead of time. To tell the
truth, often there is more real enjoyment in planning than in
executing, for one does not get tired to death with long dusty tramps
while sitting in a comfortable easy-chair and mapping out a
future course!
Some of these plans would of course come to naught; but others might
be expected to arrive at the stage of reality, when once the spring
advanced. That new and unexpected developments were apt to step
in, however, and demand a share of their attention, may be seen from
the character of the next volume in this series, which bears the title:
"The Boy Scouts and the Prize Pennant."
THE END