TEDDY MEETS “THE INDIANS”
In order to get a better view of the pine martens, who had shifted
slightly from where they were first fighting, Link and Bart moved
cautiously along among several big pine trees.
“I’ll take the lighter one,” said Bart.
“All right, I’ll try for the darker,” said his chum. Both of the martens
were brown, but there were several shades of difference between the
pair.
“Are you ready?” came a few seconds later.
“Yes.”
“Then fire!”
Crack! crack! went the two guns in rapid succession and up into the air
leaped both of the animals. Then they came down into the snow and
whirled over and over. One was mortally wounded and quickly expired, but
the one shot by Bart, tried to crawl away.
“He’s going to get away from ye!” cried Teddy Dugan, in strong
excitement. “Let me give him a shot, won’t ye?”
“Yes,” answered Bart, and no sooner had he spoken than the Irish boy
blazed away, and over on its back went the pine marten, as dead as a
stone.
All of the young hunters rushed up to inspect the prizes. They found the
pine martens of a strong odor, but with beautiful furs.
“Those pelts are worth something,” said Joel Runnell.
“Can we eat the meat?” asked Bart.
“I don’t think you’ll care particularly for the flavor. But you want to
save the furs.”
“We shall certainly do that,” said Link, and then old Runnell showed
them how to skin the game so that the fur would not be damaged.
Now that they were out with their guns they continued the hunt until
sunset. During that time they were lucky enough to get three rabbits and
two squirrels and also some more nuts out of the hole of one of the
latter creatures.
It was growing colder steadily and by sunset all of the young hunters
were more than glad to get back to the shelter.
“Oh, but this night is going to be a stinger!” predicted Joe, and he was
right. They brought in a large quantity of firewood and set the blaze to
going as hard as they dared. The pine trees leaning against the cliff
were getting dry and they had to be careful that no sparks should set
them ablaze.
“We’ve burnt down one shelter, we don’t want to burn down another,” said
old Runnell, and Joe, Harry and Fred agreed with him.
By midnight it was so cold that several of the boys could not sleep.
Wrapped up in their blankets they huddled so close to the fire that one
of them, Bart, had one corner of his wrap badly singed.
“Look out, you’re on fire!” came from Joe, in a warning, and Bart leaped
up and did a war dance in an effort to brush away the sparks which had
reached him.
Some water had been brought into the shelter for drinking purposes, but
long before morning this was frozen into a solid chunk, which Teddy
Dugan surveyed with a comical look on his face.
“Sure an’ nobody will be after drinkin’ that,” he said. “If you want
water you’ll have to chew it!”
“This is the banner cold snap so far,” observed Harry. “I trust the
thermometer doesn’t go much lower.”
“If it does the bottom will drop out sure,” added Link, with a grin.
“I don’t feel much like stirring from the fire,” came from Fred.
“See Fred, doubled up like a squaw,” cried Bart. “Fred, are you toasted
yet?”
“Never mind, I noticed you grumbled as much as I did, during the night,”
returned the stout youth.
“Did I?”
“Did you? Well, I just guess. You wanted all the extra blankets, you
did.”
“Never mind, boys,” said Joel Runnell. “We’ll have a good hot breakfast,
and that will warm us all up.”
Pancake flour had been brought along by Link and Bart, and that morning
they had coffee, pancakes, and fried rabbit. They did full justice to
the meal, and as old Runnell had said, all felt warm and in better humor
after the repast was finished.
It remained cold all day, and the boys spent the time around the
shelter, cutting more firewood, and fixing the place up so that the wind
could not get in quite so freely. Link started another snowball fight,
but it did not last.
Yet Link was out for some fun, and at supper time he reminded Harry of
the trick to be played on Teddy.
“I’m willing,” came from Harry, readily. “But I think we ought to let
the others know, so they can enjoy the fun.”
“I shouldn’t tell Runnell. He might want to stop us.”
So it was agreed to tell the other boys. All were much interested and
did what they could to make Harry and Link look like Indians.
First some reddish dirt was dug up and thawed out, after which it was
mixed with a little rabbit grease and smeared on their faces. Then some
feathers were put in bands and stuck around their heads, and each
wrapped himself in a camp blanket, in true Indian style.
“You’ve got to have weapons,” said Joe. “Here, each take a hatchet.”
“I brought along a bow and some arrows,” said Bart. “Link can take
that.”
“And I’ll take my gun,” put in Harry.
“See that it is empty first,” said Joe, warningly. “We don’t want any
accident.” And the weapon was discharged on the spot.
All these preparations were made in secret, while old Runnell was out
looking for game. The boys had persuaded Teddy to go out, too.
When Joel Runnell and the Irish lad returned to camp Link and Harry were
missing.
“They went up the north shore,” said Joe. “Teddy, they wanted to know if
you wouldn’t follow them up. I think they have something they want you
to help carry home.”
“All right,” answered the Irish lad, willingly, and set off at once,
whistling merrily as he trudged along.
As luck would have it, Joel Runnell was busy skinning some rabbits found
in the traps. Consequently he did not notice the actions of the boys and
inside of a minute after Teddy left the camp they were following him up.
“Don’t let him see you,” whispered Joe to the others. “If he does the
game will be spoilt.”
“You keep out of sight yourself,” returned Bart.
“And don’t talk so loud,” came from Fred. “Remember, it’s so quiet just
now a fellow’s voice carries further than you imagine.”
After that they remained silent and took good care that Teddy should not
see them.
All unconscious of the trick about to be played upon him, the Irish lad
trudged on and on, until he was quarter of a mile from camp.
“Hello, boys!” he called out. “Where are you?”
No answer came back, and he continued to move on, until a sudden stir in
some bushes caused him to halt. It was after sunset and the woods
appeared dim and ghostly.
“I say, where are you?” he went on. “Link! Harry!”
Again there was no answer, but now he saw two forms moving silently from
the bushes to a spot behind him.
Joe had seen to it that Teddy did not take his gun along, so the Irish
lad was totally unarmed. He watched the figures in considerable alarm.
“Sure an’ they can’t be the boys,” he told himself. “Link! Harry!”
Slowly the figures drew closer and as they did so Teddy’s hair almost
stood on end.
“Indians!” he cried. “Indians! Oh, I’m a dead b’y now!”
“Pa-wa! Pa-wa!” cried one of the advancing figures. “Bunk-a-bunk a
busta-bust! Pa-wa!”
“Nunk-a-nuck!” came from the other. “White boy Injun prisoner!”
“Mercy on me!” shrieked poor Teddy. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me, Mr.
Indian!”
“White boy big chief’s prisoner,” came from the second figure. “Maybe
scalp white boy!”
At this Teddy clasped his hands in terror.
“Don’t ye do it!” he yelled. “Help! somebody, help! The Indians have
come to murder us all in our beds! Don’t touch my hair! I nade it, I
do!”
He wanted to run, but one of the wrapped-up figures caught him by the
arm, while the other raised his hatchet threateningly.
“White boy be silent!” was the command. “No speak a word.”
“Fer the sake o’ me family!” groaned Teddy. “Please let me go!”
“White boy good to eat maybe?”
“To eat is it! Oh, my! just to hear o’ that now! No, I’m no good to eat!
I’m tough, terribul tough! If ye try to eat me ye’ll break yer teeth!”
At this came a snicker from behind the trees.
“Say, but he’s scared right enough,” murmured Bart.
“Down on your knees—your Japanese,” went on Harry, giving his hatchet a
wild flourish.
“Oh! oh! Don’t sca—scalp me!” groaned Teddy, and fell on his knees.
“Injuns let white boy go on one condition,” said Link, who had a wild
desire to burst out laughing.
“What is that?” was the eager question.
“White boy stand on head and sing big song.”