The Scout Law
Rob and his three chums were immediately interested in this new and
peculiar happening. They had had more or less experience along
somewhat similar lines on a former occasion, and knew the value of
enlisting scouts, with their knowledge of woodcraft, when any one
chanced to be missing.
The woman came into the room just then. She looked greatly
distressed, though evidently trying hard to control her feelings.
Questions that met with ready replies soon put them in possession of
such facts as were at her disposal. The child was a small boy named
Caleb, not over six years of age, though hardy enough. He had never
wandered off before, so that they suspected something unusual must
have tempted him on this occasion.
It had not been until ten o’clock that he was missed. Then the
mother and the other children looked high and low for him without
avail. Finally, becoming anxious, she had sent out into the fields
where her husband was working, and soon everybody around the region
had enlisted in the hunt.
As the river ran not more than a quarter of a mile away from the
Holcomb home, there were grave fears lest the child might have
wandered that way. Some were even looking along the bank with the
idea that the body would be cast ashore; others, including the now
frenzied father, were engaged in scouring the woods, calling out the
name of the little fellow from time to time, and then stopping to
learn if a feeble answer came in reply to their hails.
Rob knew that it might mean a long and difficult hunt. He also
understood what an advantage it always was to be prepared for such
things.
“I saw one of those hand electric torches in your den, Ralph,” he
went on to say in his energetic fashion. “Do you know whether it has
a working battery in it?”
“To be sure it has,” he was told. “I only brought it home with me
last week when I was down in the town, and haven’t used it an hour
since.”
“I’m glad to know it. Please fetch it along,” Rob told him. “Torches
may be all very well as a makeshift, but give me such a light as
yours when you want to look into out of the way places. Besides, in
trailing on a dark night they can’t be equaled. I’ve used one many a
time.”
Ralph instantly realized that perhaps these scout visitors of his
might come in very handy in an emergency like this. That mention of
“trailing” gave him an insight into the probable plan of campaign
which Rob was likely to institute; and so Ralph made up his mind
that it would be a good thing to hand the manipulation of affairs
over to the boy in khaki who seemed to know just what to do, as well
as how to do it.
They lost little time in getting ready. Ralph soon had the car at
the door, and they commenced to pile in, after Mrs. Holcomb had been
tucked away in the capacious rear seat. Rob noticed with more or
less interest that Peleg insisted on joining the party, as though
just as eager to have a hand in finding the lost boy as any of them.
From time to time some one would ask more questions. Rob in
particular seemed to want to find out all he could before arriving
on the ground. These queries as a rule turned on such points as the
last that had been seen of little Caleb, and whether he had any
friends living near by whom he would be likely to want to visit,
though possibly getting lost while on the way there.
In this way Rob picked up more or less information that might come
in useful later, when on the ground. Ralph heard how he managed to
draw these more or less important facts from the now sobbing mother.
He also admired the way in which Rob told her not to worry, for they
were almost certain to find her boy before morning.
About this time Tubby thought he ought to say a few words in order
to help comfort the sorely stricken woman.
“You know, ma’m,” he told her, for he chanced to be sitting
alongside Mrs. Holcomb at the time, “we scouts are trained in the
art of tracking people as well as animals. Why, several times we’ve
proved that we could find a lost party when no one else knew how to
go about it. It is scout law to respond to any call for help, and
we’re just bound to do all we can. Yes, ma’m, there was a poor
half-demented man lived down in Hampton who used to be watched by
his folks very close; but, in spite of it all, one time he managed
to give ’em the slip, and went into the scrub, which, down on Long
Island, is like a wilderness, and easy to get lost in.”
Tubby waited a few seconds so as to get his second breath, and then
went on with his story, which he meant to be comforting to the poor
mother.
“After they had searched and searched for two days they came to the
scouts and begged us to please lend a hand. By that time the trail
had grown pretty cold, you see, but Rob here went at it like he
always does, with a vim, and I give you my word for it, ma’m, before
three hours had passed we found the man, though he was----”
“That’ll do, Tubby, don’t bother with the particulars!” interrupted
Rob, fearing that the benefit which the recital was intended to have
upon the overwrought nerves of the poor woman might lose something
of its value if Tubby told that the demented man was really dead
when they finally found him in the scrub oak wilderness a mile or
two back from the beach.
Ralph was at the wheel, and he knew his road, so that before a great
while they drew near the place where the Holcombs lived. The woman
had driven over in a buggy, but her rig could be recovered later on.
Time was too valuable to allow her to return home in the same
tedious manner as she had come.
“Looky yonder, will you?” burst out Tubby. “What are those lights
glimmering in the woods over yonder? Seem like a pack of giant
fireflies to me. Rob, do you reckon they can be lanterns carried by
some of the people who are searching everywhere, helter-skelter
like, for little Caleb?”
“Just what they are, Tubby,” replied the scout leader; “and, as you
say, they are likely enough running this way and that without a bit
of reason. Why, they would go over the same ground a dozen times,
and skip lots of places that ought to be looked into. We’ll try to
lay out a concerted plan of action--that is, in case there isn’t any
trail to be found.”
“I’m a bit afraid we won’t have much luck in that quarter, Rob,”
said Sim. “When you come to think of it, a little fellow like a
six-year-old doesn’t make much of a dent when he steps out, like a
heavy man would, or Tubby here.”
“Still, there are ways of following a trail besides always seeing
the impression of feet,” hinted Rob. “But wait and see how we fare.
The ground must be in pretty good condition for tracking, under the
trees. Even a small chap like him could turn over the pine needles
as he tramped along, and you can always tell that by the freshness
of those that are disturbed--those on top, you know, look faded in
the sun and air and rain.”
Ralph listened and nodded his head in approval. Such confident talk
aroused his sincere admiration. He felt more than ever that Rob must
be a remarkable boy; and if the mere fact of being a scout could
account for any degree of his cleverness, then perhaps this
education they spoke of, running along the lines of a knowledge of
woodcraft, first aid to the injured, preparedness, lending a helping
hand, and all that sort of thing might not be such a bad subject,
after all, to study. Somehow, his opinion of scouts in general was
undergoing a steady change. He meant to keep tabs on every action of
these four fellows, now that they were face to face with another
emergency. If they could come out of this difficulty as successfully
as Rob had done when that boy with the dislocated shoulder fell into
his charge, Ralph would be almost ready to surrender and admit he
had been badly mistaken.
When they arrived at the house it was to find quite a gathering of
neighboring women present. Rob knew nothing was to be gained by
coming in contact with these people, for while their intentions
might be commendable, they were only apt to hinder the work with
their questions, and by advancing impossible theories.
He asked Mrs. Holcomb to please let him speak with her oldest girl,
who, it appeared, had been the last one to notice little Caleb
before the fact of his vanishing had become known.
All Rob wanted to learn was about the time of day this happened, and
in which quarter the child had been at the time. To his mind that
would mark the beginning of the trail, and he did not mean to have
any of the women around when starting to search for the tiny tracks.
Just as he expected, no one had as yet thought to search the ground
for signs of the wanderer’s shoe prints; instead of that, they had
scattered through the woods, or rushed madly away toward the river,
hoping to find the boy before anything serious happened to him.
Rob soon learned the few things the half-grown girl could tell him
between her violent sobs.
“Now come with me, fellows, and we’ll start off,” he told the others
as they gathered eagerly around him.
Mr. Jeffords continued with them. Something seemed to tell him that
these wide-awake and up-to-date scouts would have a much better
chance of getting results than all those husky men who were roaming
the woods at random, shouting to one another, or else calling out
the name of the child.
Arriving at the spot where the girl said the small boy had last been
seen, Rob asked the others to stay at a certain place while he and
Sim used the electric torch in the endeavor to find the first trace
of those tiny footprints.
The night had set in quite dark by now, so that only for the glow of
that useful little torch they would have had to depend wholly on the
lanterns Peleg and Ralph carried.
Shooting the strong white light downward, the two boys proceeded to
look thoroughly about them, scanning every object that fell in their
way, and utilizing their utmost stock of woodcraft in the work.
When possibly five minutes had elapsed, though it certainly seemed
much longer than that to the waiting group close by, Sim gave
utterance to a cry of exultation that thrilled the others.
“Found the trail, have you, fellows?” called out Ralph, excitedly.
“Come over here and see,” Rob told him.
He made them act cautiously, so that they might not blot the “signs”
out by their own footprints. He pointed to the plain impression of a
tiny shoe in the soft earth. There could be no doubt but that the
mark had been made by Caleb; and, it was agreed, if only they could
successfully follow where that trail led, they would sooner or later
know where the child had gone.
“Try and see if you can follow it, Rob,” urged Tubby, impatiently,
though there was also a confident ring to his voice, as well as a
suspicion of pride about his manner, for he fully believed that the
ability of the scouts in a case of this kind was about to be
vindicated.
They watched with an eagerness words could hardly paint, while Rob,
accompanied by Sim, began to slowly move along. There was a growing
confidence in the way the trackers took up their task that promised
well for the success of the enterprise. Ralph felt his heart beating
tumultuously in his breast as he mentally pictured the ecstatic joy
of restoring the lost child to his distracted mother’s arms.
They were moving steadily along. Now and then Rob would pause for a
brief period of time, perhaps to make sure that he was on the right
track, or it might be to show the others something that caused them
increasing satisfaction.
Forgotten were all the other searchers in the Adirondack woods; let
them rush this way and that in their hunt without a method; but the
scouts were on the right track, and if fortune were kind, they meant
to follow it to success.