JACK GOES FISHING.
"Are you sure this is the tree?" Jack asked, as he carefully scanned the
trunk of the big tree.
"Sure? Of course I am. Don't you see where the bark is rubbed there?"
Bob replied, pointing to an abrasion so slight that it is no wonder that
it had escaped Jack's eyes.
"I see it now all right," the latter admitted, adding: "Now to see if we
can find another one."
But there is nothing like a heavy snow and wind storm to erase the
tell-tale marks indicating the passage of a body through the woods. For
fully a half hour they searched but, so far as any sign went, that mark
was the end of the trail.
"Well, it's go it blind or turn back and give it up. Which will it be?"
Bob asked, as he announced his inability to pick up the trail again.
All traces of the storm, with the exception of the freshly fallen snow,
had disappeared. Not a branch stirred in the still air and the sun,
filtering through, fell with almost dazzling brightness on the virgin
snow.
After a short discussion it was decided that they would go on until
night, trusting to luck to pick up the trail. Failing to do so, they
would start back the next morning.
"We won't starve for a couple of days, even if we don't get a shot at
any game," Jack declared as he picked up the rope and yanked the
toboggan around.
As nearly as they could estimate two miles an hour was the best they
could do, but they consoled themselves with the thought that the man
they were after was undoubtedly finding the traveling equally hard. They
kept due north, laying their course by the sun until it was nearly over
head, and then trusting to the bark and moss on the spruce trees, a bit
of knowledge taught them by their Indian friend. All through the
forenoon they kept sharp watch for game of any kind, but not a living
thing showed itself.
At twelve o'clock they stopped long enough to build a small fire, over
which they made coffee and warmed a can of vegetable soup.
"It's all right as far as it goes," Jack laughed, as he swallowed the
last mouthful, "but the trouble is it goes such an awful little ways."
"I say, Jack," Bob began, as a sudden thought struck him, "it's strange
I didn't think of it before, but do you know it's more than likely that
that pack of wolves got after Nip or whoever it is we're trying to
follow?"
"Let's hope not," Jack replied, after a moment's thought. "If he had
enough sense to climb a tree he'd be all right. Of course if they
attacked him in the open it would be different, but it's all woods
around here. If it wasn't, I tell you right now, I'd feel mighty shaky
for fear they might come back."
"Well, I hope you're right, and I dare say you are," Bob agreed as he
took hold of the rope. "But we must be moving."
The afternoon was a repetition of the forenoon: plowing steadily
forward, foot by foot, their snow-shoes sinking deep in the light snow.
The light toboggan fortunately did not greatly impede their progress, as
it made but little impression in the snow, and they felt confident that,
despite their slow advance, they were probably making as good as the man
they were after, and they hoped better.
Shortly after four o'clock they came suddenly in sight of a good-sized
lake.
"That must be Lake Chemouassa-Banticook," Bob declared as he stopped.
"And see, there's a cabin a little to the right."
"Wonder if there's anybody at home. I don't see any smoke," Jack said,
as they approached the little hut from the rear.
The front of the cabin faced the lake, and as they turned the corner
both boys stopped short, giving vent to a cry of joy. Leading away from
the door and extending out on to the lake were the tracks of snow-shoes.
"If there's no one living here that means that Nip spent the night in
this cabin," Bob declared as he dropped the rope and, stepping up to the
door, hammered on it with his fist. As there was no reply after waiting
a moment, he tried the latch. The door was not locked and pushing it
open he stepped inside closely followed by Jack. It was at once plain to
be seen that the place had not been used as a permanent habitation at
least for a long time. It consisted of a single room in which there was
no furniture with the exception of a single straight backed chair and a
small and very rusty stove.
"He was here all right," Jack declared, as he untied the thongs of his
snow-shoes.
"And I guess we'd better follow his example for tonight," Bob quickly
suggested. "It'll save us quite a lot of work making a camp and if we
can get a fire to going in that stove it'll at least be warm. I believe
we can do it," he announced a moment later, after a hasty examination.
"I imagine Nip left this morning and we couldn't possibly catch up with
him tonight, so we'll stay here and get a good early start in the
morning."
In one corner of the room they were fortunate enough to find a few
sticks of dry wood and some old newspapers and in almost less than no
time they had the old stove roaring in good shape.
"If we only had brought along a fish line we might get a mess of fish
out of the lake," Bob remarked as he pushed another stick into the
stove.
"If wishes were horses," Jack began, and then suddenly stopped in the
middle of the quotation. "Here's your fish line," he shouted, as he drew
it from the inside pocket of his mackinaw. "Talk about luck. I remember
now putting that line in my pocket just before we left home and it's
been there ever since. If you'll cut some boughs for beds I'll guarantee
to furnish all the fish you can eat and then some."
"It's a go, but look out if you fall down on your bargain," Bob laughed
as he got the ax from the toboggan and started for the back of the
cabin.
He had, however, taken but a few steps, when Jack shouted:
"Hey, there, come back here with that ax. Think I can scratch a hole
through the ice with my finger nails?"
"I guess perhaps you might have some trouble, seeing the ice is probably
two feet or more thick," Bob laughed as he turned back. "But I'll help
you and then I can cut the boughs while you are fishing."
The cabin was only a few feet from the shore of the lake and he quickly
followed Jack who, with a shovel, was already on the ice. Fortunately
the wind had swept the surface of the lake with such violence that there
was but little over a foot of snow on it.
"I wonder if this old lake is froze solid all the way to the bottom,"
Bob grunted, as he straightened up after some ten minutes of vigorous
chopping. He had cut down all of two feet and still there was no sign of
water. He would chop a minute or two and then Jack would shovel out the
chunks of ice. They knew that the ice froze pretty deep on the lakes of
Northern Maine, but even they were surprised when they were obliged to
go still another foot before the ax cut through to the water. Once
through, it was but the work of a minute to enlarge the hole
sufficiently to allow a whale, as Jack laughingly declared, to be pulled
through.
"What are you going to use for bait?" Bob asked as he started back
toward the cabin with the ax.
"The only thing we got is that beef tongue," Jack replied, as he pulled
the small can from his pocket.
"Go as light as you can on it," Bob called back. "I want a bite of it
for supper in case you don't get any fish."
"Huh, not a supposable case at all," Jack declared indignantly, as he
opened the can with his knife and proceeded to bait the hook with a
small bit of the meat.
"Here's hoping they like tongue as well as I do," he thought as he
lowered the hook into the water.
For fully fifteen minutes he crouched over the hole without even a
nibble, pulling the line up every few minutes to see if the meat had
fallen off.
"They ought to be hungry enough to eat tongue even if they don't care
for it as a steady diet," he thought. Then it occurred to him that
perhaps the noise of the chopping had scared the fish away and that it
might be some time before they would venture back to that part of the
lake. So he kept his patience and resigned himself to a long wait if
necessary. Another ten minutes passed and still no bite came to
encourage him.
"Boughs all cut and beds made. How about your part of the bargain?" Bob
shouted from the door of the cabin.
"Nothing doing yet," Jack had to call back, much chagrined at his
failure.
"Well, you'd better hurry up: it's getting dark pretty fast and I'm
getting hungry," Bob shouted back, as he disappeared in the cabin.
"Hope he don't think I'm enjoying this," Jack said to himself as he, for
the twentieth time, started to pull in his line.
Then, suddenly, his heart gave a jump as he felt a strong tug on the
line. He gave a quick yank but, to his disgust, failed to hook the fish.
"Hope you like it well enough to try again," he muttered, as he put a
fresh piece of the tongue on the hook.
To his great joy the fish did, for he had hardly gotten the hook in the
water before it was seized again and this time he pulled in a speckled
trout fully twenty inches long.
"There's one good meal ahead of the game anyhow," he thought as he took
the hook from the trout's mouth and baited it again.
The fish had evidently returned in force, and for the next half hour the
boy was kept busy pulling them in as rapidly as he could handle them.
Then, knowing that he had as many as they could possibly use, he began
to wind in the line.
"How about it?" Bob shouted, as he again appeared in the doorway.
"Got one," Jack called back. "I'll be up in a minute." And picking up
the largest trout, a splendid specimen, weighing not less than five
pounds, he waded through the snow to the cabin.
"He's a beauty and no mistake," Bob declared as his brother held the
fish up for his inspection. "Too bad you didn't get some more like him."
"Who said I didn't?" Jack grinned. "If we can scare up something to put
them in, I'll show you a dozen more nearly as big as this fellow."
"Do you mean it?" and Bob caught his brother by the arm and for a moment
the two boys gave a good imitation of an Indian war dance as they leaped
about the room.
After a short search Jack found an old gunny sack which he declared
would fill the bill, and leaving Bob to dress the trout he hurried back
for the rest of the catch.
Except for their electric flashlights, the only source of illumination
they were able to find was a single bit of candle about three inches
long. But so happy were they in knowing that they had plenty of food,
they made the best of it without a murmur, and in another half hour
supper was ready. To be sure they had no salt, their supply of that
article having been lost in the havoc which the wolves had wrought with
the pack. Still they had a small amount of bacon left and by using a
small amount of it the fish, although a bit flat, was, as Jack declared,
"not half bad and a whole lot better than nothing at all."
As soon as supper was over and the few dishes cleaned up, they put out
the candle, of which not much more than an inch remained, and for
perhaps an hour they sat and talked by the light which came from the
open door of the stove.
"I'm going to do a little deducing," Bob announced after he had filled
the stove as full as possible. "While you were fishing I hunted around a
bit, and over there in the corner I found two pint bottles which, by the
smell, have had whiskey in them not long ago. It's fair to think that
they belonged to Nip and that he drank the contents. As there were two
of them he must have drank over a pint from the time he got here till he
left, and if he did the chances are that he didn't get a very early
start this morning."
"You are deducing, if I get you right, that Nip isn't very far ahead of
us, aren't you?" Jack asked as Bob paused.
"Right the first time, and what's more, you may or may not have noticed
that those tracks were not very straight, which seems to indicate that
whoever made them had been 'looking on the wine when it was red.' No, I
feel almost certain that our friend is not very far away, and if we
start around four o'clock we ought to catch up with him before night.
How does that strike you?"
"Right between the eyes," Jack replied without hesitation.
Anything which Bob said was usually right in his brother's eyes, not
only because of the love he had for him, but he knew, from many
experiences, that Bob's judgment was pretty apt to be sound.
"But if we're going to hit the trail by four o'clock, I think it would
be a good plan to hit the hay right now," Jack proposed as he got up
from his seat on the floor.
"Hit the boughs, you mean," Bob laughed as he followed suit. "I guess
we'd better, seeing that the fire is about out and there's only about
enough wood to get breakfast in the morning."
Bob's watch told him that it was just three o'clock when he opened his
eyes, and for a moment he struggled against the almost irresistible
desire to go to sleep again. But he knew that much depended on an early
start. So making as little noise as possible, he got out of his sleeping
bag. But before going to sleep the night before, Jack had made a
resolution with himself that he would wake as soon as Bob stirred, and
this time he was successful.
"Thought you'd get ahead of me again, hey?" he growled good-naturedly,
as Bob was getting to his feet. "My, but it's dark as the ace of spades
and then some," he muttered, squirming out of his bag.
They made short work of getting breakfast, and it was but a few minutes
after four o'clock when they were ready to start. While eating they
debated the advisability of leaving the toboggan at the cabin, and
taking with them only enough for a single meal. But finally they decided
that it would be best not to take such a course.
"The toboggan is so light that we can make almost as good time with it,
and we're not at all sure that we won't have to sleep out tonight, and
without the duds we'd have to roost in a tree and it would be mighty
cold," Bob declared.
The stars shone with a still cold dimness as they started off. The
traveling was still heavy, although the snow had settled a trifle and
their snow-shoes did not sink quite as deep as the day before. The trail
led straight across the lake toward the north, and it was plainly
evident to the boys that the man who had made it must have been under
the influence of liquor.
"See how uneven the prints are," Bob pointed out, throwing the light of
his flash on the snow ahead. "He had hard work to keep his feet straight
and you can see that he stopped every few minutes. I doubt very much if
he made more than ten miles yesterday, especially if he had more whiskey
with him."
It was about five miles across the lake to the opposite shore and they
reached it at half-past five.
"Pretty good time, considering," Bob declared as he glanced at his
watch. "I'll bet it took him three hours or more to make it."
The trail now led up the side of a hill which was little less than a
mountain, and as the growth of trees was very heavy it was a hard
struggle to drag the toboggan between them. It was perhaps a little over
a mile from the shore of the lake to the top of the hill, but the first
streaks of red were tinging the eastern sky when, panting and puffing,
they reached the summit.
"My, but that was some climb, believe me," Jack panted as he leaned
against a large spruce.
"Yes, we didn't make very good time coming up the hill that's a fact,
but it's a pretty safe bet that Nip didn't do it in much better time
even if he didn't have to pull a toboggan," Bob declared stooping to
fasten his snow-shoes a bit tighter.
The way now led down hill through a thick growth of pines and after a
short rest they were off again.
"Look Jack, here's where he stopped to cook a meal," Bob said after they
had gone about a half a mile farther. "See, here's what's left of his
fire, and sure's you're born there's a stick with a few live sparks
still on it. That means that he was here not much more than an hour ago
and perhaps less."
He had hardly spoken the words when they were startled by a voice from a
thick growth of bushes a few feet to their left. They turned quickly but
no one was in sight.
"Yes, and he's still here," the voice had declared.
"All right, why not come out and show yourself," Bob said, as soon as he
recovered his surprise.
"I'll come when it suits me and not before," the voice growled. "And in
the meantime you two stand right where you are. I've got yer covered and
I'd about as soon shoot as eat."
As the voice uttered these threatening words, its owner stepped into
view. The boys at once recognized Nip the hunchback, despite the fact
that his face was covered with a thick growth of hair.
"Now what are you all a followin' me fer?" he demanded, as he stepped to
within about six feet of them and stopped.
The boys saw that he had uttered no idle threat, for he held in his
right an ugly looking revolver. It was also evident that, however drunk
he might have been the day before, he was perfectly sober now.
"Who said we were following you," Bob asked. "I believe this is a free
country, and I guess we have as much right to be here as you have."
"Aw, cut it out, kid, I heared yer talkin', so what's the use of tryin'
ter bluff?"
"All right, have it your own way," Bob replied pleasantly, trying to
appear unconcerned. "You seem to have the drop on us. May I ask what you
intend to do about it?"
"That depends on you all," the man declared after a moment's thought. "I
asked yer what fer ye'r a followin' me."
"Under the circumstances I guess it's a fair question and I'll give you
a fair answer," Bob replied. "I have reason to think that you have a
deed to some timber land which belongs to my father and we have followed
you to get it."
"What makes yer think I've got it?" he demanded.
"That's neither here nor there," Bob replied in decided tones. "The
question is whether or not you have got it."
"S'pose I have, what's it worth ter you?" the man asked with an ugly
grin.
"Do you mean how much will we give you for it?"
"That's about the size of it," the man replied with a still broader
grin.
"Not a cent," Bob answered in stern tones. "That deed belongs to my
father, and if you were an honest man you would have given it to him and
he would have doubtless given you a generous reward, but now you don't
get a single cent for it."
"Don't yer be too sure about that part of it. I know of a man who'll be
glad ter pay me a good price fer it and don't yer forgit it," he
declared, taking a step nearer the boys.
"Then you acknowledge that you have it?" Bob asked.
"I ain't acknowledging nothin'," the man growled. "If I've got it, it's
my business, an' if I ain't, that's my business too."
During this conversation Nip had held the revolver pointed directly at
Bob, and to tell the truth the latter was far from feeling as
unconcerned as he appeared. He had had dealings with the man before and
he was well aware of his unprincipled character. He also knew that the
man was a coward unless all the odds were on his side. But now they were
far away from any human being and he did not doubt, for a minute, that
he would hesitate to kill them both if he thought that it was to his
advantage to do so. The situation, he felt, demanded immediate and
heroic measures.
Jack was standing about four feet to the right, and, as he caught the
boy's eye, he gave a slight nod to his head, at the same time gazing
intently over Nip's left shoulder. It was an old trick, but it worked.
The man saw the nod and quickly turned his head. Instantly Bob's right
foot came up with all his strength behind it, the toe of the snow-shoe
catching the hunchback's wrist. The revolver flew from his hand and was
lost in the snow several feet away. With a hoarse cry of anger and pain
the man sprang to recover the gun, but before he was half way to it Bob
was upon him.
They came down in a heap of snow, Bob on the top. But despite his
deformity, Nip was possessed of great strength, and Bob, while strong,
was only a boy. To be sure he knew far more of the science of wrestling
than did the man, but handicapped by the snow-shoes and the deep snow,
there was little or no chance to bring his skill into play. It was a
place where brute strength was at a premium. Over and over they tumbled,
now one on top and then the other, each striving to get an advantageous
hold.
At the same instant that Bob had jumped for Nip, Jack had leaped for the
revolver. He found it quickly and thrust it into the pocket of his
mackinaw and then hurried to his brother's assistance. But so violently
were they thrashing about in the snow that for some time he was unable
to do more than stand close by and wait for a favorable opportunity.
Meanwhile neither seemed to be gaining any decided advantage. Once Bob
had gotten a half Nelson around the man's neck, but with a violent
effort he had quickly broken the hold. Again, Nip being for the moment
on top, had seized Bob by the throat, and exerting all his strength had
nearly succeeded in shutting off the boy's wind. For the moment Bob
thought he was licked, but he managed to get hold of the man's wrist,
and with a violent jerk tore the fingers away. A moment later the
opportunity for which Jack was watching came, and he was quick to take
advantage of it.
Nip was again on top and had just drawn back his fist, evidently hoping
to put an end to the fight then and there. To do this he was obliged to
raise his head, and instantly Jack had him around the neck and exerting
all his strength succeeded in pulling him over backward. This allowed
Bob to work himself free, and before Nip could struggle to his knees,
Jack had stepped back and drawn the revolver.
"Good boy Jack," Bob shouted, as he struggled to his feet. "Keep him
covered a minute till I get these shoes straightened out a bit and then
we'll tend to him."
As for Nip, when he saw that the tables were turned against him, all his
courage evaporated.
"Don't shoot," he whined, struggling to get to his feet.
"It's different when the shoe's on the other foot, isn't it?" Jack
taunted. "Now, if you want to get away with a whole skin, just hand over
that deed," he ordered.
"I ain't got no deed," the man declared sullenly. "I was only fooling
when I asked yer how much ye'd give fer it."
"You hold the gun on him while I take a look," Bob ordered.
Somewhat to his surprise Nip offered no objection to being searched. On
the contrary, he appeared to welcome it.
"Didn't I tell yer I didn't have no deed?" he grinned, after Bob had
gone through all his pockets without finding the paper.
"I guess you told the truth for once in your life," Bob said as he
stepped back. "But, just the same, I'll bet you know where it is all
right."
"Mebby I do and mebby I don't," the man grinned. "But if I do it's where
yer can't never find it."
At that moment a lucky thought struck Jack. "I say Bob," he cried, "how
about his pack? He must have one somewhere around here."
Bob's heart jumped as he saw the look of anger which swept the man's
face as Jack made the suggestion. He no longer doubted but that he had
the deed stowed away in his pack.
"You hold him and I'll have a look," he said, starting toward the clump
of bushes where he had been hiding.
After a short search he found a fair sized pack rolled in a heavy
blanket strapped at either end. He carried it out to where Jack had the
man cowering under the threat of the revolver.
"Now then, Nip, it'll expedite matters a bit if you'll find the deed and
hand it over," he said as he threw the pack down at the man's feet.
"Hold on a minute there, Bob," Jack said. "Hadn't you better look
yourself? He may have another gun in that roll."
"Right you are, son, I never thought of that. How about it, Nip? Got
another gun there?"
"No, I got no more gun," the man grumbled.
"Well, seeing as how your word doesn't mean anything, I'm not going to
take any chances on it," Bob declared as he picked up the roll.
"You made a mighty lucky guess, Jack," he declared a moment later,
holding up an automatic which he had found in the pack. "If he'd got
hold of this little plaything he might have had the drop on us again."
The pack contained a small supply of provisions and a mess kit such as
is used in the army. There was little else, an old woolen shirt and two
pairs of thick socks. Bob had about concluded that the man did not have
the deed after all, when, as he picked up the shirt, he felt something
in the pocket.
"Here it is, I guess," he shouted as he drew out a long envelope which
had been folded over in the middle.
With eager fingers he pulled out the paper, and the next moment gave
vent to a whoop of joy as he saw that it was the missing deed.
"I guess this'll put a crimp in Big Ben's plans," he cried, as he thrust
it in the inside pocket of his shirt. "I told you you wouldn't get a
cent for it," he said, turning to the infuriated man. "This is one time
when it would have paid you to have been on the square. And now," he
added, turning to Jack, "we've got what we came for and we'll be beating
it back."
"You will give me back one of the guns before you go?" Nip whined.
"Yes we will--not," Bob replied. "We know how much our lives would be
worth if you had one of these guns."
"But I swar I'll not hurt you," Nip began, but Bob interrupted him.
"Save your breath, Nip. I wouldn't believe you on a stack of Bibles a
mile high. Some time when you're in Skowhegan stop round and you can
have them both, but now they stay with us."
"But the wolves. I will have nothing to protect myself with."
This was a phase of the matter which had not occurred to either of the
boys. To leave even such a man as Nip defenseless in the wilderness when
they knew that there was a very real danger from wolves was a serious
proposition, and on the other hand, to give him one of the revolvers
was, they felt, little less than suicide.
"What had we better do?" Bob asked.
"Search me," Jack replied, with a shake of his head.
"Give me de gun and you'll never see me again," Nip promised in a
pleading tone.
"Not for a minute," Bob said sternly. "Whatever else we do, it won't be
that."
Bob motioned to Jack to step back a few feet, and for several minutes
they talked in low tones. Finally they made up their minds what to do,
and coming back to where Nip was standing, Bob said:
"We've decided to give you your choice of two courses. You can go on and
take your chance. It's only about eight or ten miles to the Canadian
border, and there is a small town just over the line and you can get a
gun there if you intend to go farther. Or you can go back with us. Now
which will it be?"
"I'll take a chance and go on," the man said, after a moment's thought.
"But I'll get you sometime for this and don't ye forgit it."
Without wasting any more words, the boys picked up the rope of the
toboggan and started back, leaving Nip rolling up his pack.
"I hope the wolves don't get him," Jack said, as soon as they were out
of hearing.
"I guess there's not a whole lot of danger. He ought to reach the border
in a little over two hours," Bob replied, adding: "Anyhow, I don't see
how we could have done any different. He'd have shot us quick as a wink
if he'd got a chance."
It was just noon when they reached the old cabin on the lake. They had
intended to get a hasty dinner and then travel until dark; but, after
talking it over, they decided to wait and get an early start in the
morning, and try to make the Carry in one day.
"It's getting better going all the time as the snow settles, and if we
get off by four o'clock I believe we can make it," Bob declared. "And
I'd rather do that than camp out again. I don't much care for another
set to with that pack of wolves."
"Well, we've got to have some wood if we're going to stay here all
night. We used all there was in the shack getting breakfast this
morning," Jack said, as he began to untie the pack.
"I'll see what I can find if you'll get a couple of those trout ready;"
and, taking the ax, Bob started for the woods back of the cabin.
He was obliged to hunt for some time before he found a dead tree, and it
was all of an hour before he returned with his arms full of wood.
"I'd about concluded that either Nip or the wolves had got you," Jack
laughed, as Bob threw the wood on the floor in front of the stove.
"Thought I'd never find any," he panted. "But I've got quite a lot cut
up and I'll bring it in while you're getting dinner; but, for goodness'
sake, make it snappy. I'm hungry enough to eat one of those fish raw."
"Our bill of fare is slightly limited as to variety, although the
quantity is all right," Jack laughed a little later, as they were eating
fish and drinking coffee. "If I have to eat trout much longer I'll be
growing fins and a tail."
"They say that fish is good brain food, and if that's so you and I ought
to carry off all the prizes at The Fortress next term," Bob said as he
helped himself to another cup of coffee.
They ate again about six o'clock, and an hour later they were sound
asleep in their sleeping bags, Bob's mental alarm clock, as Jack called
it, set for three o'clock. It was some three hours later when Bob was
suddenly awakened by the sound of someone trying to push open the door.