THE JOKING SCOUT
"Can you see the enemy, Overton?"
"I can't see a thing, Corporal."
"Move forward cautiously. Don't make a sound. If you do you'll betray
our position."
"How far shall I go, Corporal?"
"Move ahead until you run into signs of the enemy. Above all, bear in
mind that you mustn't betray our presence to the enemy."
Private Hal Overton gripped his rifle tightly in the darkness as he all
but wriggled forward over the ground.
It was all very real business to the soldiers engaged in this mimic
warfare. If nothing more serious happened, any big mistake on the part
of a soldier in this sham warfare would bring upon him the displeasure
of his officers.
Late that same afternoon B Company had been attacked by lurking C
Company. Some very clever manoeuvring of the men under cover bad been
done, and a good deal of blank ammunition had been fired. True, there
had been no real casualties, but, under the rules of the game, B
Company had made such a spirited and excellent defense that C Company
had been driven further back.
Now the position of C Company was unknown, but the "enemy" was believed
to be lurking in the vicinity, bent upon a night surprise.
Two thirds of B Company slept back in the camp of pup-houses. The other
third, under command of Lieutenant Prescott, was divided up among
sentries, outposts and scouts.
To Corporal Cotter had been entrusted the problem of taking a scouting
party consisting of three privates and trying to locate either the
enemy's outpost or the main body.
Just a moment before Hal's orders to prowl forward a sound had been
heard, evidently about four hundred yards ahead.
So now Hal stole forward, moving as softly as any cat could have done,
this despite the fact that his advance must be over jagged rocks here
and there.
The ground was ideal for ambush fighting.
Hal now had a new rifle, that had been issued to him when the wagons
of B Company came up late that night. The damaged piece was now in the
wagon, and Hal bore a rifle on whose efficient action he could depend.
"It's almost a mockery to have a gun, though, just now," Hal smiled
grimly as he lifted the piece over a ledge of rock and followed.
"Wouldn't I get a clever roasting from Captain Cortland if I dared to
fire it while scouting."
Now Private Overton came to an open space where he could walk more
easily. He did not hasten, however, for there was no telling when, in
the darkness, he might step on a stone and send it rolling, with a
resulting racket that would warn the enemy, if any of them were within
hearing.
Every step had to be taken as though the troops were in the midst of
life and death war. The rules of the game were strict, and any bit of
bad judgment was likely to count against the score of the company to
which the man belonged.
Every now and then the sham young scout halted, peering backward, for
it was going to be of prime importance to him to know how to get back
when his scouting trip was done.
"Halt! Who's there?"
Overton did halt, flattening himself down against the rock.
The hail, though softly spoken, had been unmistakable.
"Halt! Who's there?"
"You'll have to come here and find out," thought Overton.
Then, as silence followed, Hal, holding his very breath, crawled some
ten yards to the left. Again he halted, but this time there was no
faintly spoken challenge.
"I think I know where that fellow is," mused Hal. "Is he a lone sentry,
or part of an outpost?"
It required fifteen minutes now of the most cautious procedure, but
Private Overton at last found himself hugging the ground at a point
from which he could just barely discern the dimly defined figure of an
alert sentry against the skyline.
"I've got him between our camp and myself now," thought Hal swiftly.
"Now I've got to be doubly careful. I don't care to have B Company
laughing at me because I got captured while on scouting duty. But I'll
settle the question of whether that sentry is alone, or part of an
outpost."
Three minutes later, after some most careful manoeuvring, Overton had
solved the question. His grinning face was turned toward a corporal
and two men who lay rolled in their blankets some ten yards behind the
sentry.
"It's an outpost, all right," grinned Hal. "Whee! How I would like to
bag the outpost and take them in as prisoners."
But that was out of the question--not to be thought of.
Private Hal Overton found himself seized by a spirit of mischief. It
was the same type of impulse which, carried to the point of reckless
daring in real warfare, leads men on to swift promotion.
Almost before he realized what he was doing Hal had hidden his own
rifle and was crawling stealthily toward the sleeping men.
Beside the corporal lay his rifle. Barely breathing, his body flattened
against the ground. Hal crept closer and closer, then stealthily
withdrew the rifle.
A moment or two later Hal had the captured rifle lying on the ground
beside his own.
"That's a real find to take back to camp," laughed Hal silently.
He was about to make off with the captured piece when a new impulse
seized him.
"Why not go back after more loot?" he asked himself, grinning.
"Jupiter, I'll do it!"
Every such move as this was fraught with added danger. But Hal moved on
his stomach, taking plenty of time, always with his watchful eyes on
the dim figure of the sentry a few yards away. That soldier, however,
appeared to be peering mostly in the direction where he believed the
camp of B Company to lie.
After a short time Hal, back in safety again, gloated over the sight of
three rifles beside his own.
"I'll be a hog, if I don't look out!" chuckled the young scout of sham
warfare.
Yet, though this was no life and death fighting, Private Overton had
nevertheless a good deal at stake. It would result in his being set
down as a rather stupid soldier should he be captured by the enemy's
outpost while on scouting duty.
"I can't help it. I've got to have one more try, anyway," decided the
mischievous soldier boy.
So back he crept. An instant later he tried to make himself flatter
against the earth than he had been able yet to do.
For that sentry had now turned and was looking in his direction.
"I commit myself to the darkness," gasped Private Overton inwardly.
For, if his presence were detected, the sentry, with one call, could
bring the other three sleeping men to their feet. Against such odds Hal
would have but scant chance of getting away.
"And I'll have to leave my rifle behind if I duck from here," thought
Hal, beginning to regret his rashness.
It was one thing to capture the rifles of the outpost; it was quite
another thing to leave his own gun behind in their hands.
After a few moments of agony the dimly seen sentry again turned his
face in another direction.
"Now that I've started this trick, I'll put it through or die," thought
the soldier boy, setting his teeth.
Again he crouched close to the corporal and the two other sleepers.
This time there appeared to be no loot loose save a pair of canteens
that lay upon the ground. Private Hal Overton made sure of these
articles, then, as he lay there, took a last sweeping look.
The shoes of Corporal Raynes, of C Company, protruded under the foot of
his blanket.
"I guess it would be too risky a stunt to try to unlace the corporal's
shoes and carry 'em away," quivered mischievous Hal, eyeing the
footgear longingly.
Then, as he gazed, it struck the soldier boy that there was something
odd about the position of the corporal's shoes with regard to the line
of Raynes body.
"I wonder if----" cogitated Private Overton, edging himself forward.
Hal made a cautious try.
His last guess proved to be correct. Corporal Raynes had taken off his
shoes to ease his aching feet, and had tucked them in at the bottom of
his blanket.
"It's a shabby trick to play on a good fellow," grinned the soldier
boy, "but this is war."
For the last time Hal crept back. Now an even greater task confronted
him, and that was how to get away with all the outpost loot he had
captured.
By making three stealthy trips, Private Overton at last succeeded in
getting all the loot in safety to a point more than one hundred yards
from the outpost.
"Now, it's time to drop nonsense for real business," decided the young
scout.
Ten minutes later he had located the main camp, and that without
falling into the hands of either of the two C Company sentries whom he
was compelled to pass in the black night.
Then back to the hidden loot the young soldier returned.
"Whew, but that's going to be a pack!" muttered Hal, gazing at it
almost ruefully. "However, I've got to take it. I won't leave a blessed
thing behind."
The canteens Overton threw over his shoulders, so that he had one on
each side, in addition to his own, which hung at his left hip. The
corporal's shoes he tied to his belt. It was the bunching of the four
service rifles, with their weight of more than forty pounds, that
gave him his real trouble. But at last he had the four pieces lashed
together and started.
"I've yet got to look out that I don't run into any scouts of the
enemy," thought the soldier boy half ruefully. "Whew, what a break it
would be to be picked up with all this loot!"
It was a welcome sound indeed when, at last, the young scout heard,
near the spot where he had left his own party, the almost whispered
challenge:
"Halt! Who's there?"
"Friend," responded Hal Overton in a tone no louder.
"Halt where you are, friend, until a sentry advances to recognize you,"
returned cautious Corporal Cotter.
It was the corporal himself who came forward.
"Great Scott, Overton, what have you----"
"It's loot," returned Hal proudly.
"Where on earth did you----"
"From the enemy's outpost. And I located the camp, too. I could guide
you right to either outpost or main camp. Will you take these guns,
Corporal? My back feels broken."
"I should think it might," was Cotter's grinning response, as he
reached out and took the lashed rifles. "Great Scott! What won't the
lieutenant and Captain Cortland say!"
Just as they stepped softly back, Private Noll Terry challenged someone
approaching softly from the rear.
"Halt! Who's there?"
"Officer of the day," returned Lieutenant Prescott's low voice.
"Advance, officer of the day, to be recognized."
Lieutenant Prescott advanced into the group.
"Do you see all this stuff, Lieutenant?" asked Corporal Cotter, calling
attention to Hal's loot as it lay on the ground. "Overton went forward
as a scout, and located one of the enemy's outposts, also the main
camp. And he brought back these souvenirs of the outpost."
"To whom do the shoes belong?" questioned Lieutenant Prescott after
looking at the stuff.
"To Corporal Raynes, sir, in command of the outpost," returned the
soldier boy, with a grin.
"How did you get hold of all this stuff, Overton?"
Hal told his story briefly.
"Great Scott! Bombshells and grenades, what a roaring joke on the
enemy! Overton, you're a man worth having in B Company. Dark as the
night is, your exploit would reflect credit on a trained Indian scout.
Overton, I'm going to take you back to camp with me. I'll wake Captain
Cortland to hear your report as to the enemy's position. And the
captain will surely want to see this loot of the outpost and to hear
your tale of how you got it. Here, let me have a couple of those rifles
to carry for you."
Lieutenant Prescott led the way hack to B Company's camp. And he shook
with laughter all the way.