A BLAZED WARNING
"Well, we gave them a run, didn't we?" crowed Hippy.
"I reckon ye'd better pack and git out of here right lively," advised
the guide.
Tom Gray agreed that Peg Tatem would miss no opportunity to take revenge
on the Overland Riders for what they had done to him, and it was decided
to break camp and move at once, the forest woman being confident that
she could keep in the right direction once she found a lumber road that
lay to the right of them a couple of miles away.
Weary as they were, the Overlanders were quite willing to get away
without loss of time from the scene of their troubles. Their equipment
had suffered some, but none was left behind. While they were packing,
Tom, in order to make them understand that they had gained the ill-will
of desperate men, decided to tell them of the dynamiting of the tree,
and declared that it was his belief that Peg Tatem's lumberjacks had
done the deed, intending that the tree should fall on the camp while
they were asleep.
"There are fellows in Forty-three's gang that were in the mob at
Bisbee's Corners," declared Tom with emphasis.
"Are they likely to follow us?" asked Elfreda.
"I don't believe they will stray far from their own camp, but they may
try to get us before we leave here. Therefore let's go. They have work
to do in their own camp, you see," reminded Tom.
Packing and breaking camp were accomplished quickly. Ponies were
saddled, packs lashed on, after which the party started away, the guide
leading, carrying a kerosene dash-lamp to assist her in reading blazes
on trees and avoiding obstructions, for the lamp had a reflector that
threw a fairly strong bar of light.
Daylight must see the Overland Riders some miles from the scene of their
fight with the men from Forty-three, and there must be as little trail
left as possible. For the latter reason, Joe Shafto kept to such ground
as was covered with a mat of pine needles. These, being springy, gave
way under the hoofs of the horses, leaving no hoof-prints, no trail.
Of the Overland Riders only two persons observed this--Tom and Grace,
for, in her brief trips with him into the woods where he, as a forester,
spent much time, Grace had learned a great deal about forestry work.
No halt was made until midnight, when the forest woman reined in and
directed a ray of light against a huge pine tree.
"A fresh blaze," said Tom, as he trotted up to her to see what the blaze
indicated.
"A blaze with a bent arrow cut in it, the arrow smeared with dirt to
make it stand out. Clever, but what does it mean, Mrs. Shafto?" he
asked.
"It's a warnin', Cap'n."
"Of what?"
"That I don't rightly know. The arrow, I reckon, points at the danger."
"Is the arrow not pointed in the direction of our old camp?" asked
Elfreda.
"Ye guessed it, Miss Briggs. That means we'd better be moseying along
right smart."
"How long has that blaze been there?" asked Hippy.
"An hour, mebby," replied Joe. "Come along, Henry."
A few strokes of her axe obliterated the arrow on the blaze, and the
party pressed on.
"I wonder if that arrow-blaze was intended for us," murmured Tom, as
they rode on in silence.
Soon, the guide's lamp revealed another blaze, but this was purely a
direction blaze, which she mutilated and changed to mean a different
direction, then made a sharp turn to the right. Other blazes
encountered, all freshly made, led them straight to the lumber road for
which she had been searching and would have missed had it not been for
the friendly blazes that pointed the way.
"What do ye 'low for that?" demanded the forest woman when they had
emerged on the road.
"I believe now that the blazes were intended for us," answered Tom, his
brow wrinkling in perplexity. "It is very strange."
"Why worry?" spoke up Hippy. "We are being led, but what's the odds who
is doing the leading so long as we are led?"
"Pure logic," observed Miss Briggs.
"From an illogical source," added Emma in an undertone.
They proceeded along the lumber road for fully ten miles, fording two
streams, then halting at a sawmill on the banks of a river. The mill had
not yet started operations. Tom got off and looked the property over,
consulted his map, then the journey was resumed. Just beyond the mill
they came upon another of the now familiar blazes, directing them to
proceed to the right and follow the river bank.
"The blazer fellow evidently knows where we wish to go. Do you know
where we are, Mrs. Shafto?" called Tom.
"Yes, I know now. It's the Little Big Branch River, though it ain't much
of a river yit. We got a long ways to go before we git to the place
where ye folks are goin' to hang out for a spell. I reckon we'd better
make camp just before daylight."
No one offered objection to her proposal. All were weary and cold, as
well as hungry and sleepy. Emma was swaying in her saddle, frequently
catching herself napping and straightening up just in time to prevent
falling from her horse, while the others, noses and lips blue, shivered
and made no effort to control the chattering of their teeth.
"Oh, why was I ever induced to leave my happy home?" wailed Anne. "This
is the worst of all."
Nothing more was heard from any of them until Joe Shafto finally
announced that they had reached the end of their night's journey.
"Rustle something for the makin's, and we'll have heat and a hot drink
right smart," she called.
While Hippy tied the ponies and fetched water for them, Tom gathered
firewood and started the fire for breakfast. Tea, being the quickest
drink to make, was brewed, and gulped down by the Overlanders almost as
fast as Joe could, pour it.
"How fu--fu--funny you look," chattered Emma, nodding at Miss Briggs.
"If I look as funny as I feel, I must be a scream," retorted Elfreda.
"Here, here! Don't I get any of that?" cried Hippy, coming up at a run.
Tea was served to him.
"Ah-h-h-h! Nectar of the gods! Now if some one will kindly prepare a
little food, I shall offer deep and sincere thanks; then seek my downy
couch for sweet repose."
"Hippy is the first to thaw out," chuckled Tom.
"He always was soft, anyway," reminded Emma.
"And we are all blue-noses this morning," added Nora laughingly.
Under the warming influence of the tea, their spirits soon revived, and
when the campfire was laid and set going a little distance from the
small cook fire, sighs of relief were heard on all sides.
Day was just breaking when the party laid down by the fire for a much
needed rest. Pine needles were their beds that morning. No one had the
ambition to help build a lean-to, nor did one care to wait for some one
else to make it.
Noon found them still asleep, with the exception of Grace, who had risen
two hours earlier to get breakfast for Tom who was about to leave for
his work, perhaps not to return for some weeks. The Overlanders were to
make a permanent camp further down on the Little Big Branch, and, when
Tom Gray returned from his first "cruise," he was to follow the river
until he found them.
"Rather indefinite," laughed Grace. "However, you aren't much of a
woodsman if you can't find us with such directions, though don't cut off
the bends in the river or you surely will miss us. We do not intend that
our camp shall be over-conspicuous."
Tom said his good-bye and, mounting, rode away and disappeared in the
forest. Grace stirred up the fire and added fresh wood so that her
companions might have warmth, for the morning was chill, and then called
them.
Spirals of smoke were rising above the trees from the campfire. Joe
Shafto looked up at it, and shook her head disapprovingly.
"If there's one low-down jack within fifty mile of us on high ground,
he'll have us spotted for certain," she rebuked. "Great fire--great
smoke for Indian signaling."
"Thank you. I had not thought of the smoke," answered Grace. "How shall
I stop its smoking?"
"Pour water on it till it's out, then build a new fire. Never mind. Too
late now. The damage's done, and a little smoke more or less won't
matter no how."
Breakfast, noon breakfast, proved to be so satisfying that no one felt
inclined to pack up and move on.
"Girls, what do you say to the suggestion that we make camp here until
some time to-morrow?" questioned Anne. "We are in no hurry, except that
we do not wish to be overtaken by Peg Tatem's gang, which, it doesn't
seem probable that we shall be."
"Yes! Stay!" cried the Overlanders.
"Is that satisfactory to you, Mrs. Shafto?" asked Grace, turning to the
guide.
"I kin stand it if ye kin."
"We stay," announced Grace. "Let's build our sheds after we have settled
our breakfasts and are able to summon some ambition."
Their sleeping quarters were finished before dark, and then the girls
rambled along the river, here and there startling a buck or a doe into
sudden flight. There were no man-made trails here, no sounds other than
the murmuring waters of the Little Big Branch and the voices of nature,
to which Emma Dean listened, nodded or shook her head as if she and
those voices were holding converse. The laughing teasing of her
companions failed to swerve Emma from her newfound hobby.
That night, as they snuggled under their blankets, clear and cold out of
the silence pealed a mournful howl, long-drawn, strange and full of the
wild.
Nora and Anne buried their heads under the blankets to shut out the
sound.
"What was that?" cried Elfreda.
"A wolf--an old she timber wolf--a varmint," answered the forest woman
from her lean-to.
"And it bids us beware of perils near at hand," droned Emma in a
far-away voice.
"Will you stop that?" demanded Elfreda. "You give me the creeps."
"I think it is perfectly wonderful," breathed Emma. Then with greater
emphasis she exclaimed, "Such a voice in the wilderness is an
inspiration. How I wish Madam Gersdorff might be here to hear it. Girls,
you don't know, you cannot dream what a wonderful woman she is."
"I'd like to see _anybody_ dream with you setting up such a chatter,"
complained Anne.
"Please, please, Emma, let the wolves howl if they wish. We can't stop
them, but that is no reason why you should keep us all awake. We need
sleep," begged Grace Harlowe laughingly.
After a few muttered protests, Emma subsided, and only the faint yelps
of the dreaming bull pup and the noisy slumber of Hippy Wingate
disturbed the deeply impressive silence of the great forest. That he
might better guard the camp, Hindenburg had been tied out to a tree on
his long leash. Lieutenant Wingate had built a miniature lean-to for the
pup to crawl under in the event of rain, but Hindenburg was already
under it, stretched out on the yielding browse bed, one little brown ear
vigilantly erect to catch the slightest sound. Emma Dean declared that
the dog must be deaf in that ear, for he never seemed to hear with it.
The bull pup's slumbers were not disturbed that night, nor were Henry's.
The bear lay at the rear of Mrs. Shafto's lean-to all night long, curled
up into a furry ball, but with the break of day he was off in the forest
for the choice morsels of food that he knew were there for him to pluck.
After the campers awakened, the forest woman's shrill call soon brought
the bear ambling back to camp, but they observed that he was restless,
now and then lifting his nose and sniffing the air, punctuated with an
occasional throaty growl, but the bull pup, flat on his back, feet in
the air, was sound asleep on his browse bed.
"Henry, what's the matter with ye? I reckon maybe ye smell some varmint
that's hangin' 'round waitin' fer the leavin's of the breakfast,"
scolded Joe.
The bacon was on the fire and the aroma of coffee in the air when a
loud hail warned the Overland Riders that they were about to receive an
early morning call.
Lieutenant Wingate answered the hail. A few moments later they descried
a horseman riding through the forest towards the camp.
The newcomer was dressed in khaki, wearing an army hat and high lace
boots. Grace recognized the uniform at once, having seen it before when
foresting with Tom Gray. Her identification was confirmed when she
caught sight of the bronze badge of the Forest Service, which the
stalwart rider wore on his left breast. His face was rugged and
weatherbeaten, and the strength of the wilderness was in his eye, though
the man's facial expression, at that moment, was far from pleasant.
The forest ranger, or fire warden, halted and surveyed the camp with a
slow, searching gaze, narrowly observing the crackling campfire, then
suddenly bent a stern look on each member of the Overland party.
"Morning, Buddy. You are just in time to sit in with us for a snack of
breakfast," greeted Lieutenant Wingate cordially.
"Put out that fire!" commanded the ranger sternly, pointing a lean brown
finger at the cook fire that had grown into a lively blaze.