THE FIRE TEST
"All here, Paul!"
Jack saluted as he said this, and smiled to see the look the scout leader
gave his scorched and discolored uniform.
Although Jack had spent an hour and more that morning trying to clean up
his suit and leggins, they showed many signs of the hard service to which
they had been put on the previous night.
Several of the fellows carried cameras. They had signed for the
photographic test, and hoped to get some fine views of the troop in
action. These would possibly be entered for competition when the other
commands in the county lined up to strive for leadership in the last
great event--the winning of the banner.
Presently the town clock struck the hour.
"Fall in!"
Two by two they marched out of town. People came to the doors to watch
them; and many a girl waved her handkerchief vigorously. But there was no
response. Much as some of the lads might have liked to raise a hat, and
send back an answering salute, they had already learned how to keep their
eyes to the front, on penalty of being given bad marks that might tell
against them later on.
More than one parent looked to see how the boy nearest their hearts bore
himself. Proudly they watched the long double line swinging down the
street, keeping excellent step, considering how little time they had had
for drill.
Other boys there were who stood on the corners and mocked. Of course
these were the followers of Ted Slavin, envious of the popularity already
attained by Paul's patrol. Some of them had been at the fire, and
witnessed the deed of daring carried out by Jack Stormways. Jealous of
the other troop they tried to taunt them by various cries; but without
success.
However, most of them did not venture to tag after the marching corps.
They knew that even the wonderful patience of these fellows would have
its limit, and that a sudden turn might be made upon the tormentors that
could hardly prove pleasant for the minority.
Out of the town limits they went, still keeping step. Ted and Ward
trailed behind, but there was no more taunting done.
"They mean to follow, and see what we are up to," said Jack, when he came
alongside the leader again.
"Well, we can't stop them from doing that, I suppose. The woods are free
to all. Let them look. If they can pick up a few pointers, well and good.
When we lead, you know we can afford to laugh at those who follow,"
returned the other.
"Sure, because they'll never catch up with us in a year," laughed Jack.
For a full mile they continued, never once breaking ranks.
"We're nearly there, fellows. You're doing fine, I tell you. Keep it up
through to the end. Why, you march like veterans already!"
In this fashion did the scout leader warm every heart, and cause those
who were beginning to tire of the jaunt to grit their teeth, and resolve
that nothing must be allowed to interfere with the completion of the
march.
"Left wheel!" came the command, as the van drew abreast of an opening
where a wagon road entered the woods.
Still those two curious ones trailed in the rear, determined to ascertain
what it was that took the Fox Patrols out of town this day.
Presently, surrounded by the giant trees, still green with their summer
foliage, Paul gave the command to halt and break ranks.
Immediately the twenty-six lads began fraternizing. Those owning cameras
started to look around for openings where some promising view offered.
But most of the scouts clustered around the leader, eager to hear what
the programme of the day would embrace.
"First comes the fire test. There are a dozen fellows who have come
prepared to qualify for that. And I think we shall have an interesting
competition. Here, all who have hatchets get busy, and cut wood."
Paul himself led the way, for he delighted in using the little camp axe
which he often "toted" into the woods, when hunting or camping.
The sound of chopping soon resounded through the timber, and by degrees
quite a pile of wood had been accumulated. But all this was simply to
loosen up the muscles of the competitors; for they were not to be allowed
to use any of this fuel, which was for the main campfire.
Once this had been started, Paul distributed a dozen tin kettles that had
been brought along. These were all of the same size. Moreover, they had a
plain mark two-thirds of the way up, which was to limit the amount of
cold water from the near-brook which they must contain.
"Here are five matches for each one of you. Every fellow is placed on his
honor not to have a single other one in his possession. You are not to
use any kind of paper in kindling your fires. Just imagine that you are
adrift in the wilderness, where a newspaper is never seen. And in the end
when a kettle begins to boil the owner of it must shout and raise his
hand. I will have inspectors appointed whose duty it will be to see that
all is fairly done."
"Don't we get more than these five matches?" asked one of the
contestants.
"That is all. And remember, that if two are tied when the quart of water
boils, the fellow who can show the most _unused_ matches comes in ahead.
That is a valuable point, for it proves that he knows how to conserve his
resources. A match is sometimes of priceless value to a man lost in the
big timber."
"Tell us again what we must do, Paul."
"Form a line right here. When I say 'go,' every fellow dart off to some
place he has in mind. With your hatchets you are to chop wood, and get a
fire started as quick as you can. Then place your kettle on it, and keep
on adding fuel until the water boils. I will time every contestant
myself, and keep a record. But this is just a preliminary trial. We'll
have another later on. Ready, all?"
The twelve contestants lined up, while the others watched operations.
Even the two outsiders had kept getting closer, so as to understand all
that was done. And as Ward had his gold watch in his hand it was evident
that he intended to do a little timing himself.
"He wants to see how our best compares with what some of his fellows will
do," remarked Jack, to Paul.
"All right. He's welcome. The more the merrier. If they have any fellow
who is more at home in the woods than Wallace Carberry for instance, I'd
just like to know it," returned the other, promptly.
"How about you, Paul? I guess Wallace would stand a mighty poor show if
he ran a race with the head scout," returned the second in command.
"That's something we've never settled yet. Wallace and I must have a
chance at each other some day; but not yet. Now watch them scurry around.
Every fellow has his mind made up where he can cut wood easiest. I've
made them bring in all loose stuff, you see, so that they start on an
even thing. Here goes!"
Paul raised his hand, and exclaimed:
"Go!"
Immediately the dozen lads darted frantically off. Several came near
having a collision right in the start, which would have been fatal to
their chances for winning out; since the water in their kettles must have
been spilled; and according to the rules of the contest they could not
refill the same without journeying to the creek, which Paul had made sure
was fully fifty yards distant.
It was a laughable, as well as interesting sight.
Having reached the various places mentally selected as the scene of their
intended operations in fire building, the boys set down their kettles,
and commenced to feverishly whack away at dead branches, or other wood.
In several instances two of them happened to pick out the same place, and
naturally there was considerable rivalry between them, as well as an
exchange of remarks intended to irritate and delay.
"Look at Wallace, will you!" observed Jack, presently; "nearly all the
others have smoke going, but he's chipping away as steadily as you
please. Why, he seems in no hurry at all. I guess he doesn't want to
come in ahead!"
"Wait, my boy," laughed Paul. "You don't know that sly fox. He's up to
all the dodges at fire making, and believes in a good start. Some of
those smokes never will amount to much, for they just struggle along, and
threaten to go out because it takes all the puffing the fellows can give
to keep them alive. Now he's going to strike up. Only one match needed
with Wallace, you see."
"And how his blaze jumps! You were right; he made sure he had enough fine
kindling first, before starting in. Now he's adding larger stuff; and
what's this he's doing with those stones?"
"What do you suppose?" said the scout leader, nodding his head
approvingly. "Making a little fireplace where he can perch his kettle,
and have the hottest part of his fire under it. Note also that the
opening is in the direction of the breeze. That allows the flame to be
fanned. Wallace will never have to blow out his cheeks and puff to keep
his blaze going."
By this time some of the contestants were bobbing their heads to
ascertain just how Wallace had done it; and made haste to follow suit.
All were willing to take pattern from a past master who knew the wrinkles
of the game.
One upset his kettle, and despairing of having any show, withdrew from
the race.
Eleven fires kept on burning, some of them under protest, apparently,
for they did not give much promise of landing their unlucky builders as
victors.
"How long is it?" asked Jack, presently, as certain signs caught his eye
that told him the end was near.
"Just nine minutes; but--"
"Look at Wallace," cried Jack; "he's raising his hat. There goes an
inspector to see. He nods his head. The water must be boiling; and who
would have thought it? Hurrah for the Carberry Twin! Look at Ted and
Ward! They act as if they thought there was some trickery, for they're
running up to see. I guess they've tried this game, and come in under the
wire in about fifteen minutes. Hello! there's Bluff calling out. Good
boy! He's going to run Wallace a race next time. But I'd like to see you
make the test, Paul?"