CHAPTER XI

THE CHIMNEY JUMPER

"HOLD on, Lil Artha, don't rush things so fast!" called out Toby.

"Because this isn't our cabin, and before you knock over the uninvited

guest it might be just as well to ask permission from the owner," added

Elmer.

All eyes were of course turned on Uncle Caleb, although, according to

the mind of the impulsive Lil Artha, there was only one thing that could

be done, which was to suddenly open the door, and when the wildcat

rushed out give him a shot.

"I've been trying to get a picture of that cat so long," Uncle Caleb

told them, "that I'd really be very much disappointed now if he met with

his fate, and I had to go without a snapshot, even though a distant one,

to remember him by."

"It might be arranged," suggested Elmer, quietly.

"Put your trust in our scout master, sir, and you won't be

disappointed," Lil Artha went on to say, meanwhile looking curiously

toward Elmer, as though wondering what sort of plan he could have

conceived on the spur of the moment.

"Tell us how, Elmer?" George demanded, at the same time eying the cabin

with a dubious manner, as though he half believed the boys who said they

had seen _something_ through the small window must have deceived

themselves.

"Why, if the beast came down through the chimney, it strikes me he ought

to know enough to go out the same way if alarmed enough," was what Elmer

told them.

"A good idea, my boy!" declared Uncle Caleb, "and if I had everything

ready, with my little pocket camera focussed on the chimney, I suppose I

could snap him off as he climbed out. Now I'll fix that up right away,

and when I'm ready I'll sing out. After that some of you can bang on the

door, and start shouting, which should be enough to alarm the cat and

make it think of scampering out the way it came in."

He was as good as his word. Pushing forward until he was within thirty

feet of the cabin, with a good view of the rude chimney-top, and the

light in the right quarter to promise a good picture, Uncle Caleb waved

his hand to the others.

"All ready here, boys!" he exclaimed after he had fixed himself.

Elmer had spoken to Lil Artha and Toby, who were delegated to be the

attacking squad. George and the scout master accompanied Uncle Caleb,

the latter holding his gun in readiness.

"Remember," said Elmer, in a tone that every one could easily hear,

"there is to be no shooting unless it becomes necessary. If the cat

attacks us we'll have to defend ourselves. If it chooses to go about

its business we don't expect to bother it any. Get that, Lil Artha?"

The tall scout replied that he did, though he looked disappointed, as

though this thing of sparing so ferocious a varmint as a wildcat just

because some one wanted to catch a few pictures of the beast from time

to time, did not appeal very much to his sense of the fitness of things.

To Lil Artha the cat was without the pale of the law, because it

destroyed all sorts of useful things, from young partridges, rabbits and

squirrels to domestic fowls; and he knew there never was a time that any

State in the Union ever attempted to bar its hunters from killing every

bobcat they could find, the more the merrier.

"Then start your racket!" Elmer told the two who were standing close to

the cabin door.

Upon thus getting orders Lil Artha and Toby began to immediately make

all the noise they could. They pounded on the door with their fists,

together with the butt end of Lil Artha's gun; and the jargon of talk

they put up was enough to drive any ordinary cat distracted.

Toby even partly opened the door--just a few inches for he did not want

to make the acquaintance of that cat at close quarters--and banged it

shut again, meanwhile sending a whoop through the slit. It must have

been a brave animal that could have stood out against all that

combination of sounds.

Through the small opening Toby had glimpsed something that made him have

a chilly sensation along the region of his spine. He had caught sight

of the intruder. The cat was an exceptionally large one, and it stood

there in the middle of the floor, its hair bristling with fury, and its

eyes glaring like yellow balls. No wonder Toby slammed that door so

speedily, while his whoop ended in a yell. He almost thought he could

hear the heavy thud as the springing cat landed against the door close

to his head.

That may have only been his imagination working overtime, and inspired

by the one glimpse he had obtained of the fierce beast. He fancied as

much himself later on, when in a condition to survey the sequence of

events calmly.

While Toby and Lil Artha continued to whoop things up another shrill

outcry, this time from George, stilled their clamor.

"Oh! there he is coming out of the chimney, Elmer!" was what George

shrieked in his excitement, and afterwards the others laughed when they

made mention of the fact that for once George did not seem to doubt the

evidence of his eyes, or say that he thought it might be the cat he saw.

"I've got him!" added Uncle Caleb, who doubtless must have managed to

work his snapshot camera instantly, though no one heard the "click" of

the flying shutter on account of all the other sounds that were arising.

The wildcat had indeed appeared on top of the chimney, having remembered

the route it had taken when entering. This alone proved that it was a

clever beast, because in the midst of such excitement many another

animal would have lost its head, and gone plunging around the interior,

trying to push through the window perhaps, and utterly forgetting that

there was such a thing as a vent in that slab and hard mud "smoke

chaser," as Lil Artha always called the chimney.

"Look out, Elmer, he's going to jump at you!" warned the tall scout, in

a frenzied tone.

A wildcat is possibly one of the most vicious of small beasts of prey to

be found in American forests. It will often attack a hunter without any

seeming provocation, although doubtless there is some reason for the

reckless act, such as hidden kittens near by, or consuming hunger.

In this particular case neither of these reasons would apply, but the

animal was enraged on account of being disturbed while eating, and then

badgered by those yells on the part of the two scouts, as well as their

banging of the cabin door. George afterwards told them that they could

hardly blame the poor cat for getting its back up when abused and

shouted at in such a way; he also said that if he happened to be a wild

beast he would certainly be "mad clear through, and ready to fight at

the drop of the hat."

Elmer was on the alert, not that he had really anticipated such a thing

as having the wildcat spring at him, but he knew enough about such

animals to be aware of their fickle temper, and that one is never to be

trusted within leaping range. An old hunter had once told him never

under any possibility to lower his gun when a bobcat was facing him,

because their spring is like a flash of lightning. And as we happen to

know, Elmer was a boy who always believed in the efficiency of the

scout's motto, "Be Prepared!"

The cat crouched there on the top of the chimney for just three seconds.

That was the time when Uncle Caleb managed to press the button, and get

his picture. It was also when Lil Artha sent out his shrill warning, and

at the same time swung his Marlin gun around so that the stock rested

against his shoulder.

Then the wildcat sprang, with every powerful muscle in play--sprang

straight toward the little group of three--George, Elmer and Uncle

Caleb!

George was unarmed and being a cautious fellow he knew that the best

thing for him to do was to get out of range as speedily as possible.

Accordingly his movement was exactly timed with that of the leaping cat;

for just as the animal quitted the apex of the short chimney, and

launched its agile body into the air, George fell flat on his face on

the ground and made himself as small as possible.

There sounded a double report. Both Elmer and Lil Artha had fired so

near the same time that until told differently later on, George supposed

that the scout master alone had made use of his ready gun.

Uncle Caleb knew considerable about these savage cats, and he jumped

aside even as the roar of the guns sounded. Elmer, too, had no sooner

pulled the trigger than he took a quick step to the right, and then held

his gun ready to make use of the other barrel if necessary.

It turned out that such a thing was not needed. Halted in midair by the

double charge of shot, which at such close range must have had the same

tearing effect as so many bullets, the wildcat fell with a heavy thud to

the ground, some five feet away from where Elmer stood. He instantly

covered the beast with his gun.

"No need of another shot, my boy!" cried the owner of the cabin,

hastily; "you've already settled him handsomely."

The wretched invader had indeed paid the penalty for his crimes, and all

because he possessed such a terrible temper. Had he been willing to jump

in the other direction the chances were nothing would have been done to

prevent his escape, so that he might furnish Uncle Caleb with other

opportunities to snap him off when in the act perhaps of devouring a

partridge he had captured in the snow forest. When he allowed his fury

to get the better of his discretion he made the one mistake of his life.

All of them gathered around the now dead wildcat to admire his size, and

comment on his recklessness in daring to attack a party of human beings.

"Did you ever hear of such nerve in all your life?" remarked Lil Artha,

who was grinning all over with the satisfaction it gave him to be

instrumental in disposing of such a pest of the woods. "Why, if there

had been a regiment I reckon he'd have jumped at 'em just the same.

Mebbe cats go mad sometimes, and just don't know what they're doing."

"I've known of similar cases before," remarked Uncle Caleb, who was

looking at the wretched beast rather sadly, Elmer thought, "and a hunter

who has had experience never trusts a cat further than he can see it.

They get those crazy freaks once in a while, and fear seems to be driven

out of their system. When a Malay or a Chinaman loses his head, and

starts to wipe out the whole town, they say he is 'running amuck,' and

they always shoot him down as they would a mad dog. This cat species

when rendered furious does the same thing, and hesitates at nothing. But

I'm sorry it had to be done. He was a splendid specimen of a wildcat.

Look at those powerful muscles, and see what a square head he has. I'd

have given considerable to have had him a little more sociable, so that

I might have snapped off several pictures showing how he secured his

food, and crept up on game. But it couldn't be helped, apparently; he

just had to go and commit suicide as it seemed. And, Elmer, you

certainly pulled a quick trigger."

"Half the credit goes to Lil Artha, for he fired at the same time,"

Elmer quickly admitted. "I'm sure both of us hit him, because you can

see how badly the pelt is cut up. It would never bring ten cents in the

market after that riddling."

"Is it possible that there were two shots, and I never suspected it?"

Uncle Caleb observed, turning on the tall scout with a smile. "Well, I

can easily see that you boys have long ago learned how to take care of

yourselves, which is one of the best things any lad can know. All of

which increases my desire to hear more about this organization that is

doing such wonders for our American lads."

"Do you think you got your picture of the cat, Uncle?" asked Toby. "I

heard you call out something or other about it."

"I pressed the button while he was squatting on the top of the chimney,"

the owner of the cabin went on to say, "and that should be a fine

picture. Then almost mechanically I turned the screw that brought

another section of film into play, and my recollection is that I snapped

off another shot even as the beast was in the air. I'm curious to know

if I got anything worth while with that one. It would be a great triumph

if I should develop the film and find that I'd caught the cat just as it

received your shots and crumpled up in midair."

"That would be something worth seeing, sir," Lil Artha told him, "and

we'll hope it turns out that way."

George had scrambled to his feet as soon as he realized that the danger

was over. He looked a little ashamed, but there was no occasion for

feeling that way. When any one is unarmed, and sees such a fury as that

wildcat certainly was coming in his direction, he would be foolish

indeed not to dodge, and even hug the ground in an effort to escape

contact with those cruel poisonous claws.

"Gee whiz! look at the sharp teeth, would you; and then those open

claws," Lil Artha continued, as he bent down and took one of the dead

cat's feet in his fingers; "excuse me from meeting up with such a crazy

customer when walking through the woods at sundown. I might manage to

get the best of the beast, but my bully khaki suit would be in ribbons,

and mebbe my face clawed into a map of Ireland."

"As for me," spoke up Toby, "I'd never feel easy if I knew such a terror

was always hanging around, watching for a chance to grab me when my back

was turned. And say what you will, Uncle Caleb, I'm tickled half to

death because we bagged your pet cat before he had a chance to mark any

of us. I tell you I'll enjoy my tramps around this section better after

this. If he'd got away you wouldn't have caught Tobias Ellsworth Jones

wandering fifty feet away from home base without carrying a club or a

gun along. His room is going to be a whole sight better than his

company."

Uncle Caleb smiled at hearing what his nephew thought.

"Perhaps you're right in saying that, Toby," he remarked, "and it may be

that in pursuing my pet hobby I'm going too much to extremes in wanting

to preserve the life of such a savage animal. Possibly your ending his

career of piracy may be the means of saving me from a very unpleasant

experience; for I was planning to push my campaign against this same

cat, and follow him into his den, to get a good flashlight picture of

what he looked like at home. It would have been a foolhardy experiment,

I begin to realize. I suppose it's all for the best, and I'll cure the

skin just to remember the adventure by."

Lil Artha, who had pushed up close to Elmer, managed to say in a low

tone:

"I reckon that it was you knocked the stuffing out of the beast, Elmer,

because I'm afraid I fired too low." But the scout master immediately

hushed him up, and told him never to mention it again, for he felt sure

both of them had made a hit.

Storm-Bound; or, A Vacation Among the Snow Drifts · 第 11 / 16 章