THE LONG NIGHT
"LET me tell you this is going to be the queerest old camp any of us
ever found ourselves stuck in," Toby ventured to remark, some time
later.
"I should say it was," grumbled George, as he rubbed his ears, and then
held both hands out toward the fire to warm them again.
"I know one thing we ought to do right away," said Elmer, "and that's
get out those warm skating tuques; they'll keep the air off our heads,
and can be drawn down to protect our ears."
"That's a good idea, Elmer," Lil Artha told him, "because I don't want
to have one of my wigwags frozen off. You see, I'm so much taller than
the rest of you it takes harder work for my poor heart to pump warm
blood all the way up; and so I'm likely to suffer from cold extremities.
Seems like that off ear is frosted right now."
"If it is," cried George, hurriedly, as though he thought Lil Artha
meant all he said, "take my advice, and rub it hard with a lot of snow.
That'll take the frost out, and start circulation again. Brr! but this
is going to be a tough night, when you think of it."
"I don't know," Elmer told him; "seems to me we've got a whole lot to
be thankful for, with this fine fire, and a protection against the
storm. Perhaps we may run up against something harder than this before
we're done."
"But we haven't got a tent, and our grub is pretty skimpy, say what you
will," the grumbler went on to protest.
"Yes, that's all very true," continued Elmer, "but how wise we were to
fetch our blankets along, for fear that Toby's uncle mightn't have
enough in stock to go around. They felt pretty heavy when we carried
them, soldier fashion, around one shoulder, and tied them under the
other arm; but here's where they come in dandy."
"Well, believe me, it was the smartest trick we ever did," Lil Artha
hastened to comment, "and if we'd only glimpsed this sort of box ahead,
so as to lay in three times as much grub, it'd be all right."
"It is all right as it stands," the leader went on to say, "and we'll
show how scouts can take things as they come, without making mouths. So
let's see how we're going to fix ourselves for the night."
"Guess none of us care much to sit up late, and gabble over the fire,"
suggested Toby; "though it seems a fellow can't get enough of that heat
in him."
"I want to shut out the whole business," affirmed George, in sheer
disgust, "and I hope that after my eyes close I won't know a blooming
thing till morning."
George was a good sleeper as a rule, and his troubles seldom kept him
from getting a fair share of rest. Nor was he like his cousin, Philander
Smith, also a member of the Wolf Patrol, and who had been known to walk
in his sleep; George, once he snuggled down, with his blanket tucked all
around him, was like a regular Indian mummy. The others, knowing this
from past experiences, paid little attention to his complaints
concerning a disturbed night, because they knew it never had any real
basis of fact.
For some little time the four boys busied themselves getting "fixed."
George was as hard to suit as any old maid. He found something wrong
with every corner of the depression that he tried; here it was a root
that jabbed him in the ribs; in another place the point of a big stone
made it impossible for him to curl up, and maintain a comfortable
attitude.
After he had made the complete round, the others allowing him his
choice, he was finally compelled to accept the first position he had
tested.
"Now let's hope we've heard the last kick from you, George," Lil Artha
told him, severely, after submitting to all this fussing; "I don't see
what you've got to complain about after all. Your bones are well covered
with a pad, while mine stick out like the joints of a scarecrow. And
say, don't you think I'm going to have a tough time of it stowing these
long legs of mine away? Chances are they'll push out in the night, and
when I wake up again I'll find the lower part of poor Lil Artha as
stiff as a board. Subside, George! Give the rest of us a chance to get
settled down. If we all took as long as you did it'd be near morning
before we fixed things."
Finally, however, they seemed to have made the best of a bad bargain.
Taking Elmer's advice they all kept as close together as possible. In
this way perhaps they might not secure a great abundance of decent
sleep, but the fact of their being in touch with each other would add to
their comfort in the way of warmth.
Elmer, with characteristic generosity, had chosen last, and hence he lay
nearer the outside of the shelter than any of his mates. But having
known what it was to be exposed to the rigors of a cold storm, since he
had braved a Canadian winter while up on that ranch, the young scout
master also knew how to make use of his blanket as though it were a
sleeping bag.
The hours dragged slowly along.
Afterwards they would always look back, and shudder as they remembered
how terribly long that night did seem. And yet none of them really
suffered, save that it was impossible to sleep, only in snatches.
This was on account of several things. In the first place, they were
jammed together in a way to which they were wholly unaccustomed; and
when one stirred on becoming cramped it aroused all the others in turn.
Then their strange surroundings had more or less influence upon them.
Not that there was any furious noise, such as would have accompanied a
summer gale; but the weird moaning of the wintry wind through the
leafless branches of the oaks, and the bending tops of the pines, made a
music that kept them thinking they heard human voices calling for help.
Another reason why Elmer had chosen the outside place when lying down
was his desire to keep watch upon the fire.
It was his intention to keep this going as long as possible, though a
fellow built on the order of George would have complained bitterly had
he been compelled to crawl out of his snug nest several times in order
to face that pitiless storm, and pile more fuel on the smouldering logs.
Elmer was one of those boys who, knowing his duty, always went about it
without any brag or bluster, and could be depended on to sacrifice his
own comfort in order that his chums might benefit. In other words Elmer
was what you might call an ideal scout. He seldom had any trouble about
practicing those twelve cardinal principles that govern the working day
of a scout--to be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous,
kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent. They came
naturally to him.
Three times did he perform this fire-building act. The last occasion
must have been well on toward the hour of three in the morning, as he
judged from certain conditions, though he could not bother looking at
his little silver watch.
At that time the storm was keeping it up just as wildly as ever, and
there was much more than a foot of snow on the ground, where it had not
drifted; with any quantity still to come down.
After that Elmer must have secured better sleep, for he did not wake up
again until a movement accompanied by a voice aroused him.
"Great Scott! let me tell you the bottom's dropped out of the mercury
tube this time, boys!" the voice went on to bellow, and he recognized
the tones as belonging to George, who had not been heard from ever since
he first curled up in the folds of his warm blanket.
He was raising his head now, and observing his breath as it congealed in
the frosty air. Elmer knew that the time to sleep had passed, because it
was daylight.
"How about that snow, has it stopped?" asked another voice, as Toby sat
up, and began to stretch his arms upon which he may have been lying so
that they felt more or less numb.
"Still coming down as hard as ever," Elmer told him, shaking quite a lot
of the feathery stuff out of the folds of his blanket; and then
struggling to his feet.
There was no lounging around that morning. It was so cold that every
fellow was glad to get into action immediately he came out of his
blanket. George begged to be allowed to lie there until the fire got
good and warm. He urged every plea he could think of, saying they would
only get in each others' way by crowding; and that too many cooks always
spoiled the broth, anyway; but Toby and Lil Artha declared they had no
use for a shirker; and if he did nothing else he could stand up and
serve as a windbreak for the "willing workers."
The fire had gone completely out, and several inches of snow covered the
spot; but wise, long-headed Elmer had provided against such a
contingency on the evening before, for he had a handful of fine wood,
light and dry, handy, with which to make a fresh start.
After things got to moving it was not so bad. The scouts soon felt even
a little cheerful over the situation, because a crackling fire is one of
the greatest inducements to raising one's spirits ever discovered. When
shivering with the cold, and hungry as well, the world looks pretty blue
to any one; but let that same person come in close contact with a fire
that warms him up, and things quickly take on quite a different hue.
Then there was that fragrant odor of coffee and bacon cooking on the
fire that tickled the noses of the boys; nothing could beat that for
good cheer--"if only they had more of the same," as George constantly
reminded them, even when enjoying his share.
"Strikes me this is a mighty slim breakfast," he remarked, as he found
that he had already caused more than half that was on his pannikin to
vanish, and yet his appetite seemed as sharp as ever.
"You never spoke truer words, George," said Toby, soberly, "but when you
stop to think what a small amount of stuff we've got along with us, and
the bad fix we're in, you can understand that we've got to cut the
allowance down."
"Yes," added Lil Artha, "of course you've heard of shipwrecked mariners
being in a boat, and drifting around on the big ocean for days and days.
Well, they always have to go on half rations, both with food and fresh
drinking water. Anyhow we won't have to bother our poor heads about that
last, because all we have to do is to melt snow and get what we want."
"Hang it, I wish we could melt all the old white stuff; I hate it!"
George continued, being a poor loser.
"And yet I've heard you fairly raving over the beautiful snow," chuckled
Lil Artha, "but then that was when you were out sleigh riding with Polly
Brett. Makes considerable difference what your condition is, how you
look at things. For my part I don't hanker after snow one bit right now.
Seen all I want to of it to last me all winter; but then what's the use
bothering your head about things that can't be changed. It's a
condition, not a theory, that confronts us, and what we want to do is to
set our minds to work wrestling with the question of how we're going to
crawl out of this difficulty and find Uncle Caleb's shack."
"Whew! mebbe I don't wish we were there now, snug under his roof, and
telling him all about our adventure, as well as how Elmer here found a
way to pull his chums out of a hole, like he always does," and Toby,
while saying this, gave the scout master a sly look, as though begging
him to tell them some hopeful news that would buoy their sinking
spirits up.
"I wish I had as much confidence in myself as you seem to feel in me,
Toby," was what Elmer told him, "but I couldn't say the storm is nearly
over, because it's coming down as hard as ever, and goodness knows when
it means to let up. But we're a lively bunch, you know, and we're bound
to find some way of getting out of this scrape."
"We've been in others just as tough, remember," Lil Artha declared, "and
always did get to the top of the heap in the end."
"That's the way to talk," Elmer continued; "confidence is always one
half of the battle. We've proved that on many a hard-fought field,
baseball, football and hockey as well. If you can force yourself to
believe you will win, the chances are improved three-fold."
"Well," said George, drily, as he stared very hard at his now empty
platter, "I'm doing my level best to force myself to believe this
pannikin is heaped high with beefsteak and fried onions and fried
potatoes; now if I've got a third of a chance to get what I'm wishing
for, even that much would fill a long-felt want. But say, none of you
see any grub coming along on my dish do you? Well, wishing don't seem to
do any good. I'm as hungry as ever, too, worse luck. Even speaking of
such splendid eatings seems to make my mouth water."
"Then stop it!" cried Toby; "think all you want to, but the rest of us
have feelings as well as you, and it's cruelty to animals to even
mention such things as--"
"Hold on there! don't you aggravate things by mentioning that list
again, or I'll proceed to roll you out of this hole into the snow
drifts!" threatened Lil Artha, pretending to make a threatening gesture,
while Toby threw up both hands in token of abject surrender.
"I'm dumb as an oyster, Lil Artha," he protested. "I haven't got another
word to say; but if there's got to be any ejecting done let's grab the
right party, and see that he gets his full dose."
George had meanwhile managed to pick up a couple of extra crackers, and
having his mouth full did not make any reply. Lil Artha deftly snatched
the box away from him, and closing it, calmly placed it out of reach.
"No hogging, now, George," he went on to say; "share and share alike is
the rule we've got to go by from now on. If there's any hungry feeling
swinging around, it's going to be no one-sided game. Others can feel
empty as well as the Robbins family pet. But let's hope that before
another night we'll all be sitting around a table in Uncle Caleb's
shack, as warm and cozy as four bugs in a rug."
The mere thought of having to spend a second night amidst those enormous
snow drifts gave the boys an unpleasant feeling. They turned and looked
out from under their rude shelter. The fire itself was cheery; but
beyond this lay the piles of snow, the grim trees with their white arms
extended like monuments in the burying ground at Hickory Ridge, and with
the air full of still rapidly falling flakes, as though the weather man
up aloft had an unlimited supply of white geese to pluck on this special
occasion.
For a short time no one said a word. They were all busy with thoughts,
perhaps connected with their happy homes, so far removed; or it might be
trying to picture the cheery scene Lil Artha had spoken of when he
mentioned that cabin of Uncle Caleb, the man of science, and the small
animal photographer and trapper.