THE TRAIL BEGINS.
"Make a break for the train, boys," ordered Garry hastily. "We don't
care to have them get a glimpse of us. I'll wager that they are making
for the Canadian border, since as we know they have jumped their bail
and are probably making for the national boundary line. Bringing them
back will be a more difficult task than it would should they stay in the
State of Maine."
"All I hope," remarked Phil, "is that they don't linger on the way, but
keep right on going. The chances are that our search for the smuggling
band will provide us with a new crop of people who are not especially
friendly toward us, and old enemies will not be welcomed at the new
headquarters."
The boys hunted up the conductor, and provided themselves with berths
for the long night ride. They turned in early, for the adventures of the
previous night had robbed them of some of their wonted sleep. Morning
found them making their way through vast tracts of forest lands. The
train made its usual stop at an eating place and the passengers
disembarked for their morning meal. The boys hurried through the
breakfast, in order that they might avail themselves of the remaining
few minutes to make a hasty search of the train and vicinity of the
depot to see whether or not the tramps were anywhere in the
neighborhood.
The search proved unavailing, and they returned to their place in the
smoking car, as the sleeper had been taken off at that station. The
remainder of the ride for that day passed uneventfully. About the only
topic of conversation was where they should make their headquarters when
they arrived in their new location. They discussed the feasability of
hiring lodgings in the town of Hobart, and after a short discussion
discarded this plan, since it would not be in keeping with their
characters as campers.
"My idea," explained Garry, "is to branch out from Hobart some little
distance in the woods, and there for a time being, build a double
lean-to. The weather gives promise of being fair for some time to come,
and if we find that circumstances warrant our staying in that vicinity,
we can without a great deal of trouble build a pole cabin."
Late afternoon brought them to the town of Hobart, and cramped and weary
from their thirty-six hour ride on the train, they gladly disembarked.
The little town of Hobart lay on the other side of the railroad tracks.
It was like so many other small Maine towns, consisting of a huge
general store, a smithy, which was also a garage, a great ramshackle
building that was once a restaurant and a rooming house, evidently used
by trappers who came there to dispose of their furs, and lumberjacks on
their way to lumber operations in that vicinity. The boys proceeded
directly to the general store, and here made inquiries as to the owner
of the vast timber lands that entirely surrounded Hobart.
The shrewd old Yankee storekeeper told them that all the timber land in
that section was controlled by one of the great paper and pulp companies
of the State, and that campers never bothered to get permission to use
the land.
Further inquiry brought out the information that the national boundary
line was only about three miles from Hobart.
The boys decided to hike directly into the woods, build for themselves a
fire, and sleep in the open, reserving the next morning to find a
suitable camping place where they might erect their lean-to. They
provided themselves with a week's supply of provisions, finding that
they could come into town often enough to replenish their supplies as
they ran out.
"Now," remarked Garry, after their provisions had been purchased, "we
can do one of two things, either strike directly into the woods and
cook our supper over a camp fire, or we can go over to the restaurant
and have our meal there, which appeals most to me."
"I would suggest," said Phil, "that we eat tonight at the restaurant,
not that I am too lazy to cook in the woods, but because it is probable
that a good share of the people who live in this town, but who do not
have real homes here, also eat there. In this way, we can become
familiar at least with faces of those who inhabit the place, and who
knows but what it may be the headquarters of the very crew that we are
seeking."
"I think that's a prime suggestion," said Garry heartily, "so I move we
leave our rifles and knapsacks here at the general store, and get our
supper."
Before leaving they inquired from the storekeeper what would be the best
route to take to bring them into the woods. They were told that to the
eastward was a small farming community, and that the timber line did not
begin in that direction for a matter of ten miles, but that to the
southwest, a half-hour's walk, would bring them to the dense forests.
Making sure before they left their supplies at the store, that it would
remain open until they had time to finish their meal, they repaired
directly to the restaurant. Here they found a picturesque scene. A long
counter ran the entire length of the room, presided over by an old
French Canadian, clad in a red flannel shirt, rough corduroy trousers
and high boots. To one side of the room were several tables, at which
men were already seated, playing cards or checkers. A number of fine
specimens of moose and deer heads hung from the walls.
The boys, perched upon high stools, were soon enjoying their meal. While
they were eating, they kept their ears and eyes wide open, but their
diligent attention brought them no reward. True, there were a number of
rough looking characters about the room, who might have been members of
or even heads of the particular band they had come to that country to
find. The meal over, Phil wanted them to remain for a while, in the hope
that some stray bit of conversation would give them something to work
on, but Garry vetoed this idea, for the reason that there still remained
only a half hour or so of daylight and he thought it would be wise for
them to get to a point to make themselves a camp before darkness fell.
Retrieving their packs and rifles from the general store, they started
for the woods, first filling their canteens, for it would probably be
unlikely that they could find a spring immediately on their arrival. A
half an hour's brisk walk brought them to the beginning of the timber
line. The rapidly gathering dusk signalled the quick approach of
nightfall, and they had barely penetrated the forest when Garry called a
halt.
The first duty was to build a fire, and in a short time they had
gathered enough brush to start their camp fire. A short search soon
resulted in their finding an old fallen tree, and in a few minutes they
had procured from this enough firewood to last them out the night. The
last task before rolling in for the evening was to get a number of
spruce boughs for making the usual mattress for anyone sleeping out in
the open in the great forests of Maine.
Garry awoke with the dawn, and soon tumbled his companions out. Fresh
wood was thrown on the few remaining embers, and in a short time coffee
was boiling and bacon was being fried, while Dick superintended the
making of a big batch of spider bread. It was the first meal that the
boys had cooked over a camp fire in several days, and they heartily
enjoyed every mouthful of it.
Breakfast over, the first task of the morning was to locate a suitable
place in which to pitch their temporary camp. Striking out to the
southwest, they spread out fanshaped, but not so far away that they
could not hear the sound of each other's voices. Zigzagging back and
forth, they searched for a spring. It was nearly a half of an hour
before their search was rewarded with success, when Dick's call brought
the three together.
Accidentally he had stumbled on an ideal camp site. It was one of those
natural clearings that are so often found in the densest forests. Nearby
was a clear spring, with cold water that trickled into an ever widening
forest stream.
The boys immediately decided that a day's search might not have provided
them with a better spot, and in a short time were bustling actively
about building their new camp. This consisted merely of throwing
together a brush lean-to.
The brush lean-to is the simplest sort of forest home. It is made by
erecting two poles, six to seven feet in height, and about six to eight
feet apart. In back of these, at a distance of some six feet, are placed
two more poles about one-half the height of the first pair. Four poles
are laid on the tops of these, secured by cutting a cleft in the tops,
and laid so as to form the frame work for the roof of the lean-to. The
next step in the building of such a habitation is to lay poles at an
interval of a foot or a foot and a half along the roof part of the
lean-to.
When erecting the uprights, care is taken to leave two or three bits of
branch project at intervals along the length of the poles. On these long
saplings are laid. The frame work of the lean-to is then complete, and
the finishing step consists of cutting great quantities of brush.
These pieces of brush are hung on the saplings that have been spread
across the frame work, the branches being crudely woven in and out of
each other. The front of the lean-to is generally left open. Some
woodsmen prefer to enclose all four sides, but the case of the brush
shack being built by the boys, the front part was left open, since their
idea was to build another lean-to directly opposite and about four feet
away. In the open space between the two shacks could be built a camp
fire.
The crude shacks thus constructed furnished them with ample protection
during fair weather, and even during a moderate summer shower. Of
course, in an extended rain, such shacks would be next to useless, as
the steady downpour of rain would soon beat through the brush roof.
The shacks being completed, they chopped a quantity of firewood, using
parts of fallen trees, wind wracked ruins that had dried and seasoned
under the summer sun. This was stored away in one of the lean-tos. A
balsam tree being found, quantities of the branches were cut to furnish
beds for the three. The camp was now completed, and it being nearly
noon, Dick departed into the woods to knock down a few squirrels for
lunch. He was back in less than a half of an hour with three fat
squirrels, and these skinned, impaled on a sharp stick, and wrapped with
a slice or two of thickly cut bacon, were soon roasted over the red
embers of the fire.
"Now, before we get down to business, who's for a trip to the border
line? I want to see just how it feels to be in two countries at once,"
suggested Phil.
The boys agreeing, Garry drew out his pocket map and consulted it,
bearing in mind the directions given them by the storekeeper. He decided
they were less than five miles distant from the boundary, so striking
out, they trudged steadily in what they believed was the proper
direction. A walk of about an hour and a half brought them within what
they considered was the proper location of the boundary line, then
striking out toward the north-east, they spread out in search of one of
the monuments or cairns that are erected at frequent intervals along
border lines. Luckily, a few minutes' search brought them to one of the
white stone posts which are common wherever two countries come together.
On the top of the monument, chiseled in deep letters, were the words
"Boundary Line." On the one side was cut "United States," while on the
other was the word "Canada." Dick immediately straddled the post,
exclaiming:
"Well, this is the first time that I have ever been in two countries at
exactly the same moment." His enthusiasm was so infectious that Garry
and Phil immediately followed suit and tried the novel experience.
Doubling back on the trail over which they had come, mid-afternoon found
them back at their camp site. Here a surprise awaited them, for making
free use of their coffee pot and one of their frying pans was a man,
cooking a meal over their camp fire.