Their Camp, "Camp Kent"
The next morning Dr. Kent arrived, rather cross, at the boys' camp, for
the hikers had waked him up early, and he told Joe nothing but a good
breakfast would set the world right. Joe did his best, and then put up
some lunch for him, and he went off presently in better spirits, to
spend the day, as he put it, "loafing with the wild flowers and inviting
my soul." Joe also cooked his dinner when he returned at night. The next
day, he said, would be his last, and he insisted that Tom go with him up
on Grinnell Glacier.
"We'll have a little more practice with the rope," he said, "and you can
see if you can tumble into a crevasse the way your friend Joe did."
So Joe, for a second time, took charge of the camp, and Tom left with
the doctor, bright and early. It wasn't a hard climb up to the glacier,
and they crossed it, using Tom's scout axe for cutting steps when
necessary, and the doctor sent Tom ahead a little way up a cliff, and
then reversed positions on the rope, and let Tom take number two
position. They climbed far enough up on the great gray shoulder of Gould
Mountain to look down on the glacier, on the lake far below that, on the
green meadow, and then returned leisurely to camp.
On the way back Tom got up courage to ask Dr. Kent what he had been
longing to ask him ever since he learned of his profession. That was, to
examine Joe. He told his new friend of Joe's condition, and why they
were in the Park, and how he was responsible for him, and did not want
him to go on trips and do hard work if it wasn't safe.
"I'll see if I can borrow a stethoscope from the hotel," Dr. Kent said.
"There must be a house physician there. Then I'll give him the once
over, gladly. Anybody who can make coffee like his mustn't be allowed to
die! But he doesn't look like a sick boy to me."
True to his word, he got the instrument, and before dinner took Joe into
the scouts' tent, stripped him, and examined him very carefully.
"Who told you you had tuberculosis?" he finally said.
"Dr. Meyer," Joe replied.
"What Dr. Meyer--not Julius Meyer?"
"Yes, sir, in Southmead."
"Well, if _he_ said you had, then I suppose you did have," Dr. Kent
replied. "But, frankly, I can't find any trace of it in your lungs now."
"But ought he to do hard work?" Tom asked.
"I wouldn't let him over-strain," the doctor said, "and if he climbs,
make him climb rather slowly. But out here in this wonderful land I
don't believe he need worry much any more. If you can keep him here for
a few months more, living this outdoor life, and then if he is careful
when he gets back, I think he'll be a well man by the time he gets his
full growth."
"But we have to get back to go to school," Joe said. "I couldn't let old
Spider lose out on school, even if I did."
"What are you planning to become? What are you studying to be?" the man
asked.
"We want to go into the forest service," both scouts answered.
"Oh, fine! That's a coming job, boys, but one that Joe can't take, if he
isn't cured thoroughly. Think of this--your life out here is the best
training you could have for the forest service. You can afford to miss
six months of school to learn how to live in the big woods and the wild
places. If you should camp with Mills till Christmas, say, you'd really
be going to school, and Joe would be taking tonic twenty-four hours a
day. Think it over, boys."
That night, after dinner, which he again ate at the scouts' camp, the
tepee camp being again filled up with hikers, he paid Joe at the regular
rate of three dollars a day for cooking his meals, and paid for the
food, all except the dinner Joe had got ready the night of the first
climb, which the scouts declared was their treat. Then he picked up his
Alpine rope and handed it to Tom.
"How'd you like this for a souvenir?" he asked.
Tom gasped. "For _me_!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Dr. Kent, I--I--why, what'll
you do?"
"I'm taking the bus out in the morning," the doctor said. "I've other
ropes at home. You boys might like to do a little climbing. But promise
me you'll pick easy grades to learn on, unless Mills is with you."
"Thank you!" Tom cried. "I--I never guessed I'd own a real Alpine rope.
Feel of it, Joe--ain't it soft?"
"I move we name this shack of ours Camp Kent," said Joe.
"Carried!" Tom cried. "Camp Kent it is--and I guess we won't forget whom
it's named for in a hurry, either."
"Thanks, boys," the doctor laughed. "And I won't forget you. I wish I
were going to stay here a month, and use the rope with you. But I've got
to get back to the sick people who can't come to the Park for a tonic.
Good-bye--and good luck. Joe, keep up the good work--live out-of-doors,
keep dry, don't worry, and you'll live to be ninety-nine. Tom--don't
forget to test your anchor stone! I'll be out in the morning early, and
get my grub at the hotel. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," the boys said.
And when he was gone they looked at each other, at the coil of soft,
strong, beautifully braided Alpine rope, and Tom exclaimed:
"Well, by gosh! you never can tell. When he blew in, with those funny
old blue socks on, and the spectacles, and his talk about the
Matterhorn, I thought he was a freak or hot air artist, and so did Mr.
Mills. Instead of that he's a prince--that's what he is, a prince!"
"I never said anything at the time," Joe answered. "But I liked him all
along. Gee, I bet he's a good doc, all right."
"I bet he is, too--and he says you're all right now!" Tom cried, giving
Joe a punch and a hug. "We can go climbing with this old rope together
pretty soon. By jiminy, we _got_ to carry our cameras up a cliff and get
some goat pictures. Say, that's the sport! And I'm going to see Mr.
Mills about staying on with him, and write home about school, and we'll
just stay here and see the snow come, and get our skis sent on, and,
gee, it'll be wonderful!"
"If we do that, I got to get busy and earn money," Joe replied. "I'm
going over to the Saddle Company offices at the hotel to-morrow and see
about another cooking job."
"Go to it," said Spider. "I'm willing, now the doc says it's O.K."
But he didn't have to go over to the hotel. That very evening a bell-boy
from the hotel came for him, and he set out the next morning with a
party on a four day trip. They went over Piegan Pass again, then up into
the Red Eagle country south of St. Mary Lake, then up on to the top of
the Divide over Triple Divide Peak, where the water from the snow-fields
flows in three directions--to the Pacific, to the Missouri River, and so
to the Gulf of Mexico, and to the St. Mary River, then the Saskatchewan
River and so to Hudson Bay and the Arctic Ocean.
They descended to the headwaters of the Cut Bank River (so called
because of its steep banks) and camped in a lovely canyon. Then, for the
next stage, they climbed practically over the old war trail of the
Blackfeet Indians, who went across the Divide over Cut Bank Pass to
attack their foes, the Flathead Indians, on the west side. Then, for
their final stage, they took the so-called Dry Fork Trail, to Two
Medicine Lake. This was a thrilling trip, over a portion of the Divide
that truly deserved the Indian name of the backbone of the world. At one
point the knife-blade ridge was only thirty feet wide, with yawning
precipices on either side. The chief guide said, "This is the place
where they say you can spit down into the lake three thousand feet on
the east, and throw a stone more than that on the west." Joe didn't have
to get off his horse and try, in order to believe him. And he was glad
enough there was not a gale blowing, too!
The trail finally led down around the base of old Rising Wolf Mountain
to the Two Medicine chalets, on the lake, where the party spent the
night.
Early the next morning, the party left for the railroad by bus, and Joe
went with them to Glacier Park Hotel, where he caught the Many Glacier
morning bus back to his own camp. It was a fine trip, with splendid
scenery, but he missed Mills as the chief guide, and still more he
missed the friendly companionship of Bob, Alice and Lucy, who had made
his first trip so much like a family party. On this second trip he was
just the cook for a group of three men and their wives. But it meant
twelve more precious dollars for his fund--or, rather, it meant six
dollars for his fund, and six to send home to his mother.
When he got back "home," as he called it, he found Tom had carved a
sign, "Camp Kent," on a piece of board, and nailed it to a tree by their
tent. He also found Tom full of an exciting piece of news.
"There's going to be a Blackfeet Indian pow-wow here at Many Glacier
to-morrow," he said, "and it's going to end with a barbecue, which Big
Bertha says is almost as good as a Hi-yu-Mulligan-potlatch."
"As a _what_?" Joe demanded.
"No, not a _what_, a Hi-yu-Mulligan-potlatch," Tom laughed. "Big Bertha
says out in Washington, where he comes from, when they want to give the
Indians a good time they give 'em a potlatch, which means a free feed,
and a Mulligan potlatch is one where the free feed is Mulligan stew, and
a Hi-yu-Mulligan-potlatch is just a jim-swizzler of a potlatch that
makes an Indian yell, Hi-yu! Get it now?"
"I get it," Joe laughed. "But what's a pow-wow, and why's it being held
here?"
"I guess a pow-wow is short for an Indian good time, and it's being held
here to give the folks at the hotel something to look at--as if the
mountains weren't enough. The hotel is crammed full, and so are the
chalets, and I had three people in every tepee last night. I've been
doing nothing since you left but chop wood, and haul water, and air
blankets."
"Poor old Tom," said Joe. "Well, I got twelve cartwheels in my
jeans--feels like a ton o' coal, too. That'll help toward the autumn.
Now I'll help you get the camp ready for the hikers that are coming in
to-night."
"It's all ready," Tom answered. "The crowd last night got away early
this morning. The Indians are going to get here this afternoon, and set
up their tepees down on the flats below the falls. We're going to walk
down there now and see 'em come in, so hurry up and get yourself some
grub. I've had mine. I was up at five to-day and couldn't wait for your
old bus to get in at one-thirty."
"I'll be with you in fifteen minutes," said Joe, as he put some bacon in
a pan.