WOODMAN, SPARE THIS TREE
"Now, what are you going to do?" questioned the guide.
"I'll show you. Everyone get out of the way."
Ned Rector swung the axe, burying the blade in the tree.
"Ned, Ned!" warned the Professor.
"He won't have to cut it down. Stacy will come down long before
there is any danger," answered Walter.
"Pshaw! You don't know how to chop," jeered Chunky. "George
Washington, with his dull little hatchet, could out-chop you with one
hand."
Ned was making the chips fly just the same. His hat had dropped off
and perspiration was rolling from his forehead, for his axe was not
making as much impression on the tree as he had confidently expected
it would. He made lots of chips, but they were thin ones.
"Woodman, spare this tree," pleaded a mocking voice from above.
"I will spare the tree, but I won't spare you," retorted Rector. "We
shall have this tree on the ground within fifteen minutes."
Stacy was tugging at a small bushy limb, but Ned was too busy to
observe what the fat boy was doing. After considerable effort Chunky
succeeded in breaking off the limb. He poised it carefully for a few
seconds, then let go. The limb was not heavy, but in falling that
distance it gained considerable momentum. The limb caught Ned fairly
on top of the head, causing him to stagger back and sit down heavily,
while his companions shouted and jeered, Billy Lilly looking on with
a broad grin on his face.
"Stop this instantly!" commanded the Professor. "I'll not have such
goings on. Stacy, will you come down out of that tree?"
"I will not."
"I command you to come down."
"Command _him_. Don't command _me_. How can I come down when Ned
Rector is using the axe? He might chop me in two."
"Stacy!"
"Professor!"
"Ned, put away that axe. We can't have anything like this."
"But he smeared my face with mud after I had saved him from the
'gators," protested Ned.
"He--he jumped on me. I had to stop him," answered the boy up the
tree.
The Professor motioned to Ned to go away, which Rector did rather
unwillingly.
"Now, come down here."
Stacy hesitated, then wrapping both arms about the tree trunk he
started down slowly. As he went he gained momentum, and the last
eight or ten feet he shot down barely touching the tree, landing in a
heap in the mud at the feet of his laughing companions. Stacy was up
in a twinkling, fully expecting to find Ned Rector sprinting towards
him. Ned, however, had remained by the tents.
"You never mind! I'll take it out of you some other time. I'll owe
you a thrashing until some more convenient time," warned Ned, shaking
his fist at Stacy.
"Now, young man, what excuse have you to offer for going into the
lake?" demanded the Professor, laying a firm grip on Chunky's
shoulder.
"What excuse?"
"That is what I asked."
"Be--be--because I wanted to take a bath," answered the fat boy.
"Go to your tent and finish dressing."
"Yes, I guess Ichabod has breakfast nearly ready," added the guide.
Stacy pricked up his ears at the word "breakfast," and started on a
trot for the camp.
"I'll fix you for that, one of these days," threatened Ned as Chunky
sprang into his own tent, appearing neither to have seen nor heard
Ned. The same condition existed at breakfast. Ned was casting
threatening glances at the fat boy, which the latter was pleased to
ignore. Once during the meal Chunky, chancing to catch Ned's eye,
winked solemnly, whereupon Ned forgot his anger and laughed aloud.
"That's the way it always ends. No one can stay mad at me for very
long," wailed the fat boy. "That's the way my fun is always spoiled."
"Do you like to have folks mad at you?" questioned Lilly.
"Of course I do. What's the fun of living if somebody isn't making
life interesting for you?" replied Stacy, gazing earnestly at the
perplexed face of the guide.
"I--I never heard it put just that way before, but I reckon maybe
there's something in what you say," reflected Billy.
"Of course there is. There is always something in what I say. I'll
leave it to Tad, if there isn't."
"I agree," laughed Butler. "But let's talk about the canebrake.
Where do we go from here, Mr. Lilly?"
"I reckon we will lay our course for Sunflower."
"What is that?" asked Ned.
"A flower," answered Stacy. "The common garden variety, like some
persons we know."
"You mean Sunflower River, do you not?" asked Tad.
"Yes. What do you know about it?" inquired Lilly, raising his
eyebrows.
"Not very much. I know there is such a place some twenty miles to
the westward of where we are located at present," answered Butler.
"As I have said before, you boys don't need a guide."
"No, I think we need a guardian as much as anything. I move that we
appoint you as Master Stacy's guardian," suggested Ned.
"Carried," shouted Walter.
"Excuse me, as Ichabod would say. I may be something of a success as
a guide, but as the guardian of our young friend I fear I should be a
miserable failure. I am too slow for a job like that. It needs a
younger and more active man than myself for that position."
"You are right it does," piped up Stacy.
"It needs a hustler to keep going with Stacy Brown. When do we
strike camp?"
"After breakfast," answered Tad.
"That means you fellows will have some work to do," nodded Chunky.
"It means you will have to do your share," replied Tad sharply. "You
needn't think we are going to do your work for you this trip. Any
man who shirks will be punished."
"How?"
"We haven't decided that yet. When we get into camp on the Sunflower
River we are going to hold a meeting and draw up rules and
regulations for the guidance of the Pony Rider Boys. Every man will
have to abide by those rules, including Professor Zepplin," declared
Tad.
"I agree to them in advance. It is an excellent idea," approved the
Professor.
"Better not be too sure about that," laughed Tad. "We may make some
regulations to which you will find it hard to submit. They will be
very stringent."
"Yes," urged Chunky. "The Professor needs discipline."
"So do some others," muttered Tad.
Immediately after breakfast the boys began their work of packing.
They were glad to break camp after their experiences on Tensas Lake.
It was not a comforting feeling to know that the waters almost
underfoot were alive with dangerous reptiles. Then again these might
come on shore in search of prey. Such things had been known. Beyond
this the boys were eager to get into the heart of the canebrake and
begin following the game trails of the southern jungle, an unknown
section to most American people. Only a comparatively few sturdy
hunters and rangers have followed these trails. The perils are too
great, both from fever and from the denizens of the big swamp.
"How are we ever going to drive our horses through?" questioned Tad.
"That is easy when you know how," smiled Lilly.
"But it was all I could do to get through on foot when I was out the
other day."
"You will find these horses are pretty handy in the swamp. The
ordinary animal would be of no use at all. I will lead the way and
show you something that will perhaps be new to you in forest travel."
"It is all new to me," answered Tad.
"All you folks have your horns with you in case we get separated. If
you do, wind the horn until you get a reply."
"Wind your horn?" wondered Stacy Brown.
"Yes."
"What do you wind it with?"
"Oh, a piece of string," retorted Ned.
"Winding the horn is blowing it, Stacy," Tad informed him. "Blow it
for keeps in case you get lost or are in trouble."
"Oh! Funny names you have for things down here. Won't it scare all
the game out of the woods?"
"It will if you blow the horn," laughed Ned.
Laughing and joking the boys hurried the work of breaking camp,
folding their tents into neat packages, putting every piece of
equipment in its proper place. The boys liked to attend to all these
details themselves, having been in the habit of doing things in the
same way for so long. Then again they knew where everything was,
right where to put their hands on any part of their equipment no
matter how dark the night might be.
When they were ready, the guide looked over the outfit and nodded
approvingly.
"I'll take the lead," he said. "Give your horses their heads. They
will know how to follow; in fact, they will know better than you boys.
After you have ridden the brake for a time you will know it as well
as I do. And look out that you don't get sidewiped and dismounted by
any of those low-hanging vines."
"I should like to see the vine that could unhorse me," answered Stacy.
The outfit started with the guide leading, Ichabod next, then Tad and
the others. Stacy's saddle girth slipped as he grabbed the pommel to
mount, causing him to sit down suddenly. The others were too fully
occupied to notice his mishap, nor did they hear him call to them to
wait for him. The riders swept away at a brisk running trot, which
these experienced horses always adopted in working through the swamp
or the canebrake.
The way Lilly bored through the forest was a revelation to the boys.
In and out among the great tree trunks he rode, dodging cypress knees,
leaping fallen trees where not too high, slashing right and left with
his long bush-knife, cutting a vine here or a limb there, leaving a
broad, easily followed trail that even a novice would have had little
difficulty in following, though of course at a slower pace.
The boys were convulsed with laughter at the way Lilly bored his way
through the jungle, the banged tail of his cob standing straight out,
the tough little animal's ears laid back on its head, and nose thrust
straight ahead. To Tad Butler the wild ride was a delight, only he
would have preferred to be the one up in front, slashing and hewing
the way for the others, for Tad was a natural leader and would have
enjoyed work of this kind.
In the meantime Stacy Brown had been left far behind, out of sight
and out of sound of the rapidly moving outfit. As yet he had not
been missed.