"CATCHING A TARTAR;" AND A FAT ONE AT THAT.
They had little trouble moving along now.
Somehow, it seemed as though the eyes of Step Hen and Giraffe must be
getting more accustomed to the way obstacles could be avoided; or else
the woods had become a little more open. At any rate they stumbled not at
all now, which would seem to be a lucky thing, because all the while they
were constantly drawing closer to the fire.
Thad and Allan knew they had need of caution. Those two precious rogues
of timber spies were roaming this region with the intention of locating
patches of valuable trees near enough to a stream to be felled, and
floated down by the next Spring freshet. They were on Government land,
and their rich but unscrupulous employers had been long engaged in this
form of robbery, by which the reservations lose many millions of feet of
fine lumber every year.
And such men, knowing that their work is evil, and that they are
constantly breaking the law, suspect every stranger of being a Government
spy. No wonder then they showed dislike at the mere mention of the name
of Toby Smathers, who was a forest ranger, at times in the employ of the
Washington authorities, and always on the lookout for the operations of
timber thieves.
Thad could see some one moving about. This happened when the other
chanced to come between himself and the fire.
"I do believe that's our chum, Bumpus;" whispered Giraffe, eagerly,
showing that he too had been watching the figure.
They all used their eyes to advantage, as they cautiously crept along.
Presently they would have gained a point so near the fire that it would
be necessary for them to change their mode of locomotion. Instead of
walking, even as they were doing now, in a bent-over attitude, they must
get down on all fours, and creep, just as a panther would do when
approaching a feeding deer which he hoped to pounce upon unawares.
It was one of the most exciting and thrilling moments in the lives of
Step Hen and Giraffe. Possibly they could not conceive of anything more
typical of what must go hand in hand with scouting business, than this
creeping through the woods, and constantly drawing closer and closer to a
fire, about which enemies would most likely be seated, all unaware of
their presence.
They felt proud of the manner in which they were accomplishing these
things. It reflected great credit upon their ability as scouts.
Nearer they crawled.
Why, Allan was actually down on his stomach now, and he seemed to
"wiggle" along just as they had seen an angle worm do, or a snake. Yes,
and there was Thad copying the example of the expert Maine boy.
It would seem to be up to Giraffe and Step Hen to do likewise. They were
quick to learn, once they had a pattern to go by. And in another minute
the whole four of the scouts lay fully extended on the ground, clawing
their way along as best they might; satisfied to advance, even though it
be inches at a time.
There was no longer any doubt in connection with what might be going on
just beyond. Even Giraffe and Step Hen understood it now.
First of all they saw the lost tenderfoot; and it did them great good
just to feast their eyes upon the portly figure of Bumpus, after all this
searching for him, day after day.
Then there were Hank and Pierre, too, just as hulking, and ugly as ever,
or even more so.
The two timber cruisers were evidently taking their ease, stretched out
at full length, smoking their pipes. Something about the very air of the
men would have told an observer that they were enjoying the novelty of
being waited on. It was not often that Hank and Pierre knew the luxury of
having a "slave" along, to humor their every little whim; and they were
apparently bent on making the most out of the opportunity.
Evidently Bumpus was aware of the fact that he might look upon himself as
a servant, for the time being. His dejected manner, as he sat there,
gnawing at some bones they had evidently allowed him to have, after he
had cooked supper, and waited on his captors, seemed to tell this only
too plainly.
Even as the four scouts lay there and looked, they heard Hank call out
gruffly:
"Come here, younker!"
Bumpus pretended not to hear at first. Evidently he dreaded to get too
close to the men, for some reason or other.
At that Hank burst out into a string of profanity that was enough to make
any respectable scout shudder. And when he ordered Bumpus again to come
over to him, the fat boy evidently dared no longer pretend deafness.
He approached the spot where the two men half sat; and Thad could see
from the wary manner in which Bumpus did this that he expected rough
treatment.
"Git me a coal outen the fire, you fat fool; my pipe's gone out again!"
Hank said this in the ugliest way possible. Indeed, to judge from his
manner, one might even imagine it was the fault of poor Bumpus that his
pipe had ceased to burn, instead of his own laziness.
Bumpus forthwith stepped over to the near-by fire. As he bent over, he
looked cautiously behind him once or twice, just as though the poor
fellow half expected to have one of his tormentors kick him, and he did
not want to have such a thing happen so that he would plunge in among the
burning wood.
Securing a brand that was suitable for the purpose, Bumpus advanced
toward the two men. He handed this to Hank.
"Stand thar!" ordered the bully, as Bumpus was edging away.
Applying the light to his pipe, Hank sent out several puffs of smoke.
Then, just as a smoker might wish to extinguish his match before throwing
it away, he suddenly hurled the blazing torch after the now retreating
Bumpus. That worthy tried to dodge, but was either too clumsy, or else
Hank had made allowances for this. At any rate, the brand struck Bumpus
squarely in the middle of his fat back; and while it did not set his
clothes on fire, at least it forced a grunt from the scout.
Hank burst out into a harsh laugh, while Pierre grinned. Then they went
on talking as though regardless of the presence of the boy.
Thad had felt Giraffe quiver beside him when he saw Bumpus abused and
insulted in this fashion.
And only for Hank giving that laugh, one of the men might have heard the
gritting of Giraffe's strong teeth, he was that worked up.
"Sh!" hissed the scoutmaster, close to the other's ear; and Giraffe
subsided, though he was still quivering all over from excitement and
eagerness,--yes and anger too. If he could only have had his way right
then and there, Giraffe undoubtedly would have stepped out, and covering
the two rascals with his gun, threatened to shoot unless they abjectly
surrendered. And this time they would not get off as easily as before.
After the way they had treated Bumpus, they deserved something more
severe.
But then Thad evidently was not quite ready to act. Perhaps he wanted to
see what else Hank and his timber mate might do. Perhaps--but Giraffe
concluded that it was foolish trying to figure these things out, when all
he had to do in order to learn the truth, was to possess his soul in
patience and wait.
Bumpus, true to his new scout training, even while he was listening to
the laughter of his tormentor, and rubbing his back where the fire-brand
had struck him with such a thump; turned, and deliberately put his foot
upon the blaze, grinding it into the earth until it was utterly
extinguished.
It was really one of the most surprising examples of newly-acquired
discipline that Thad had even seen. Nor would he soon forget it.
Bumpus was apparently watching the two men on the sly. When he thought
they were not looking, the fat scout quickly bent over near a tree.
Thad had quite a thrill, for he saw that the two guns owned by the men
stood against this same tree. Whatever could Bumpus be doing there? Again
and again did he turn his head to glance toward Hank and Pierre, just as
though he might be afraid that one of them could see him. But Hank was
telling a story of some kind, evidently, for the rumble of his heavy
voice seemed continuous; while Pierre lay on his back, both hands under
his head, listening, and smoking in a lazy fashion.
Now Bumpus had quitted the vicinity of the tree, and hovered on the other
side of the fire. He craned his neck several times, just as though he
wanted to make sure of something.
Thad believed he knew what that _something_ was. He had discovered, close
alongside the burly figure of Hank, the ten-guaged, Marlin,
double-barreled gun belonging to Bumpus. Evidently the bully had
confiscated the weapon, and meant to keep it, as something that might
come in handy.
Now, Bumpus was a poor loser. He had grown to feel quite attached to that
remarkable gun, during the short period of his ownership. And doubtless
it had become more precious in his sight, after the clever way in which
it had worked of late, with regard to that wildcat; and later on the lame
grizzly that had treed Bumpus.
Thad believed he had designs on that gun.
Just then Hank called out again.
"Git a kettle o' water at the spring, younker, an' bring me a drink! Be
quick, now, er I'll skin ye alive!"
Bumpus picked up a kettle or saucepan, the only one in sight, and of
generous proportions. As Hank roared at him to "dip deep, and bring her
full, enough for a grown man," the fat scout hastened to do so.
He approached, holding the kettle with both hands. Hank half sat up, to
receive it; which he certainly did, full in the face. As spluttering he
started to get, first to his knees and then on his feet, Bumpus, with an
agility that was remarkable in one of his stout build, snatched up his
trusty Marlin from the ground, and hastened to put some little space
between himself and the astonished timber cruisers, already jumping
toward the tree where their guns stood.
"'Tain't no use!" shouted Bumpus, gleefully. "I took every cartridge out,
and you bet I ain't agoin' to let you shove any more in. Sit down now, or
I'll open fire on you!"