WELL-EARNED REST--CONCLUSION.
Welcome indeed, was the sight of the two familiar tents, with a cheery
camp-fire blazing in front; Mike and Molly, the two pack mules, browsing
near by, and the three boys who had been left in charge caught in the act
of cooking dinner.
It was just high noon on that day when Thad led his little victorious
squad out of the brush, and in sight of the camp.
What an uproarious welcome awaited them! The three boys, who had begun to
grow heavy hearted with suspense from long waiting and watching, vied
with each other in trying to see who could make the most noise, and give
the greatest assortment of yells intended to take the place of a welcome.
Why, even the astonished mules looked up and "hee-hawed to beat the
band," as Giraffe declared. And when Bob White, Smithy and Davy Jones
discovered that sure enough their comrades were fetching a pair of
hulking prisoners along with them, their delight surpassed all bounds.
"It's getting to be a habit with us, fellers," declared Giraffe, proudly.
"Why, we just can't take a little stroll any more, without bumping up
against a pair of bad men, who need attention. Don't blame us; we just
couldn't help it."
Bumpus, bless his dear old heart, was looking as "fine as a peach;"
nothing at all like the woebegone, half-starved tenderfoot, whom those
left in the camp had expected to gaze upon, if indeed they were lucky
enough to ever see him in the flesh once more.
With a beaming face he came along, his gun slung over his back by the
heavy cord that had come in so handy when the grizzly chased him up a
tree; and as he walked Bumpus had both hands up to his mouth, making
sounds that would do credit to any horn. And behold, the burden of the
air, as the shouting scouts recognized, was "Lo, the Conquering Hero
Comes; Sound the Trumpets. Beat the Drums."
Such a great time as they had, shaking Bumpus by the hand, pounding him
on the back, and telling him again and again how lucky he ought to
consider himself because he had such good and loyal chums, ever ready to
go out and succor the unfortunate, and bring them home again safely.
And Bumpus never once lifted up his voice in protestations or boastings,
simply grinned through it all, and kept one eye on Thad; who finally
thinking it was time the fellows were made aware of the true state of
affairs, called out:
"Show what you've got, Bumpus!"
Imagine the great surprise, bordering on consternation, of Bob and Davy
and Smithy when the fat tenderfoot fished in his pocket and held
something up.
"The foot of a bob-cat, as sure as I live!" ejaculated Davy Jones.
"Did you kill it, Bumpus?" asked Smithy, awed by the very thought.
"Thad says so, and _he_ knows!" was what Bumpus remarked; and then with
even a wider grin he fished down in another pocket, this time holding up
some bulky articles that made the three camp guardians fairly gasp for
breath.
"Grizzly bear claws! Great Jehosophat! you don't mean to say that you
found your bear, Bumpus, and actually bagged him?" cried Davy Jones.
"Did I, Thad; you saw where I left him?" replied the Wonderful One.
"You sure nailed him, good and hard, Bumpus, even if it did take ten
shots or more, fired into him from a tree, to do the business. If ever
anybody has a right to say he killed a bear all by himself, fair and
square, Bumpus has. And here are three more truthful witnesses who will
testify the same way," with which Thad waved his arm around to take in
Step Hen, Allan and Giraffe, all of whom put up a right hand, and gravely
nodded approval of his words.
"And even that ain't all, fellers," quoth Giraffe, "what would you think
now if I told you Bumpus had turned the tables on these here two critters
who'd captured him, and were makin' him do all sorts of slave stunts to
please themselves? Yes-siree, took all the shells out of their guns, and
then grabbed up his own to cover 'em. We _saw_ him do it all, so there
ain't any mistake. If you doubt me, ask Hank there."
Mechanically the doubting ones turned toward the big timber cruiser, who,
playing his little game of appearing to be very contrite and sorry, so as
to be let off easily, made a wry face, and remarked:
"Jest what Fatty did ter us; he give us the biggest s'prise of our lives,
Pierre and me. That's the time we fooled ourselves. He caught us, all
right, and I ain't got no kick acomin', 'less so be he wants to pay me
back that way; which I don't think's goin' to be the case, 'cause he's
too fine a feller to be revengeful like."
"I want to shake hands with you again, suh," said Bob White, the Southern
boy, as he pushed up to Bumpus. "And right now let me take back
everything I've ever said about your being a poor tenderfoot. I reckon,
suh, a heap of the rest of us scouts'll have to sit at your feet, and
take a few lessons on _how to do it_."
"A wild cat; a bear; and capturing a couple of--what are they, Thad,
pirates, or just plain hold-up men? That's going some for even a
first-class scout. Just as Bob says, we take off our hats to you, Chum
Bumpus, and now, while dinner is cooking, just gather around the fire and
tell us the whole blooming story," saying which Davy led the returned
hero of the occasion to the seat of honor.
The story was all told over again, both during the eating of the meal,
and afterwards. In fact it took almost two hours to get most of the facts
out.
Then they concluded to hold the prisoners until the next morning, when
they would be breaking camp, to head into the valleys of the Rocky
Mountains, the tops of which reared themselves in great granite masses
against the western sky.
"We'll probably have a good enough time the rest of our vacation out
here," said Giraffe, later on, "but you can be sure we'll never again see
such a string of exciting adventures as fell to our lot, and that of
Bumpus, when he was hunting through the big timber for a bear; and the
rest of us searching for a lost tenderfoot scout."
But Giraffe was really mistaken when he ventured to make this prophecy;
for it was written that the members of the Silver Fox Patrol were to meet
with still another series of mishaps and adventures before they left for
home. What these were, and how cleverly Thad and his chums carried
themselves under trying conditions, will be found set down in the pages
of the next volume in this Series, now ready under the title of "The Boy
Scouts in the Rockies; or the Secret of the Hidden Silver Mine."
That very evening who should come along but Toby Smathers himself. He had
been ranging through that section, really to find out what Hank Dodge and
Pierre Laporte were doing; and seeing the camp had hastened to join the
scouts feeling a longing for human company.
Thad liked the forest ranger right from the start, and was very much
pleased when the other agreed to go with them as guide during the balance
of the time they expected to spend in the Rockies--several weeks at
least.
Toby Smathers gave the two men to understand that their every movement
was being watched by agents of the aroused Government. The Interior
Department was determined to put an end to timber stealing on a large
scale by men who had grown enormously rich in the business.
Hank and Pierre professed to be alarmed; and when they went away in the
morning to get their guns, which Thad had left ten miles off, they
declared they were going to reform, and either go into the mines, or else
emigrate to British Columbia.
"But," said Toby Smathers, "they ain't goin' to do it, mark me. Them
critters are cut out for jail-birds, and they'll either bring up thar, or
else die with their boots on."
"Well, all I hope is," said Thad, as he gave Mike, the pack mule, a touch
with the whip to start him moving, "that we never cross their trail
again."
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Obvious typographical errors were corrected without comment.
Dialect and non-standard spellings were left unchanged.
A table of contents was added for the convenience of the reader.