THE BROTHER SCOUT
They parted instantly, and each took his track, his eyes glued to the
ground. They could work a great distance apart and yet keep in touch,
for their patrol whistles were very powerful, and the day was still.
Chippy went a good three-quarters of a mile, and yet had found nothing.
He feared he was not on the right track, for at last he came to a soft
patch where spoor ought to have been. There was one new track: the man
with the hobnailed boots had turned this way, but there was no other
sign of recent passage. Chippy was standing in hesitation, when faint
and far away the shrill call of a patrol whistle came to his ears. At
once he raised his own whistle to his lips and blew an answering call,
then turned and darted like a hare back along the road. He gained the
fork and raced along the path which Dick had followed. It was clear
that the Wolf had found the track or the injured boy, but the Raven did
not trouble about searching for signs of the rider. He knew that his
comrade would leave him full directions which way to travel, and his
only aim now was to join Dick. So he tore along the road, his eyes
fixed on the centre of the track.
Suddenly he pulled up dead. There was a broad arrow marked heavily in
the road with the point of Dick's staff. The head pointed to a
side-track, and Chippy wheeled and flew off in the new direction.
Again he was pulled up. A second broad arrow, square across the way.
This time the head pointed to a wicket-gate painted white. Even as the
Raven dodged through the wicket he knew that his comrade had hit the
right trail. The wicket was painted white, and a stain of red was
smeared across the top bar: the injured boy had passed this way.
Faster and faster sped the Raven along a winding field-path which led
through meadow after meadow. Then he saw his friend in the distance,
and knew that Dick was still on the trail, for he was bending low and
moving slowly. The Wolf turned his head as his companion came up
panting.
'I'm on the spoor, Chippy,' he said. 'Here's blood again, spot after
spot. He must have begun to bleed afresh.'
'I seed some on the gate,' said the Raven; 'did yer hit the trail
pretty soon?'
'No,' returned Dick. 'I was in more than half a mind to turn back when
I came on the boot track and knew it again. And within twenty yards I
found sure signs and whistled.'
He moved forward, and the Raven dropped into file behind, for the track
was narrow. Thus it was that he, being free to glance ahead, was the
first to catch sight of the object of their search.
'Look, Dick!' he cried. 'Look, look! Right ahead!'
Dick straightened himself, saw what his comrade meant, and the two boys
darted forward. They had just turned a corner where the path wound by
a tall bank, and thirty yards before them a figure lay in a heap at the
foot of the bank. As they ran up to it, they uttered a cry of surprise
and wonder. It was a brother scout! There he lay, his slouch hat
beside him, his badge on his arm, his legs doubled under him. He had
made a grand fight, a scout's fight, to gain his home after his severe
accident. But now he had collapsed from utter weakness and loss of
blood, and lay against the bank, his face as white as wood-ashes.
His comrades pounced on him at once, placed him in an easier position,
and searched for the wound. It was on the inner side of the right arm,
a frightful ragged cut made by the deep point of the jagged stone, and
was bleeding still. Out came Dick's handkerchief and Chippy's knife.
Dick tied the handkerchief above the wound, Chippy cut a short, stiff
stick. Then the stick was slipped inside the bandage and twisted until
the handkerchief was very tight, and had checked the flow of blood.
Dick held the boy's arm up above his body as a further aid to check the
bleeding.
'Now, Chippy,' he said, 'cut round and get some water in the billy.'
'Right,' said the Raven; 'we passed a ditch wi' some water in it a bit
back.' He flew off, and soon returned with the billy full of cold
water.
'Now give me your handkerchief,' said Dick, 'and while I dab the cut
with water you push ahead and find help.'
Chippy nodded. 'I reckon this path runs somewheer,' he said. 'I'll
foller it up.'
He raced forward and disappeared round a further bend, leaving Dick to
do his best for their unconscious comrade. Within three hundred yards
Chippy saw a white house before him in lee of a fir coppice.
'His place, I know!' burst from Chippy's lips. The poor lad had fallen
almost within call of home. How narrowly had a tragedy been averted!
The Raven ran on, passed through another white wicket, and entered a
farmyard. A tall man was just dismounting from a cob.
'What, Fred, back already?' he cried, then stopped, for he saw it was
not Fred, but a stranger in scout's uniform. Chippy darted up to him.
'Fred's your boy as like as not,' he said. 'A scout same as me. Went
off on his bike a bit back, eh?'
'Yes,' said the farmer wonderingly; 'how do you come to know about him?
I've never set eyes on you before.'
'He's met with a bit o' an accident,' said Chippy, 'an' a comrade o'
mine found him an' sent me to get help. Seems I've come to the right
place, fust send on.'
'Where is he?' cried the farmer.
'Just along the medder-path,' replied Chippy, pointing; 'fell off his
bike, an' had a nasty tumble. Better bring summat to carry him.'
'Is he badly hurt?' cried the farmer in alarm.
'Well,' said Chippy, 'theer's a nasty cut on his arm, but we've stopped
the bleedin'.'
The farmer called to two men at work in a barn, and a door was hastily
lifted from its hinges. Then all three hurried along in the wake of
the Raven, who led the way back.