AN INVASION OF THE CAMP.
"I heard it, too, Jack!" exclaimed George; but neither of the others
seemed to have noticed anything, though in the case of Josh, with his
head tied up, this was really not to be wondered at.
"What sort of a sound was it, boys?" demanded the tall one.
"I thought it was a shout of some kind; how about it, George?" Jack
replied.
"Same here. But then, perhaps it's only Herb and Nick skylarking. Once
in so often Nick gets a streak, and thinks he has to work off his high
humor. But see here, Jack, I hope you don't imagine some sort of trouble
has dropped in on the two boys we left in camp less than an hour back?"
"Well, I don't know," Jack made answer, in a half-hesitating way. "But
somehow it struck me that yell was more along the line of anger or
fright than the result of high spirits or kidding."
"But Jack, we don't hear any more of the same sort?" George
remonstrated.
"How's that, then?" asked the other, as a plain whoop came faintly to
their ears.
"Say, that's Nick, all right," Josh declared, stoutly. "I could tell his
shout among a thousand. There never was one like it. I always said a
wild Injun from the Crow reservation couldn't begin to hold a candle to
Nick, when it came to letting out a whoop."
"But what would make him give tongue that way?" asked George, as he
pushed on at the heels of the leader; for they were now following what
seemed to be a trail through the undergrowth, where the trees grew
sparingly.
"Troth, and I hope now, nothing has happened to Herb," Jimmy remarked.
"Oh! let up guessing that way. Whatever could happen to either of them,
tell me that?" George demanded. "We left the boys safe in camp; and they
even said they believed they'd go aboard one of the boats, although
making sure to keep the fire going, so we would see it, if we got mixed
in our bearings, while skirting the short line. Maybe you'd expect an
alligator to crawl in from the swamp, and try to make a meal off our
chums?"
"Well, why not?" demanded Josh. "I reckon, now, they have just such
reptiles in this region, don't they, great big fellers, too, some call
them crocodiles, I'm told. But there, Nick tunes up again, like a good
feller."
"There must be something wrong, or he wouldn't show so much excitement.
Make all the hurry you can, boys. We're getting closer all the time;
yes, and it seems to me I can almost make out what he's shouting."
"You're right, Jack, for I'd take my affidavy I heard him say just then:
'Get out, you robber! skedaddle, now!'"
"That sounds like some one had found the camp, and was trying to steal
our belongings!" George exclaimed.
"Well, I hope they lave the boats, that's all; for the walkin' do be
harrd, I'm tould, between here and Meyers," Jimmy up and said, in his
whimsical way.
"Good gracious! you don't think, now, that anybody would be so mean as
to try and crib our bully boats?" gasped George; and no matter what
oceans of trouble his _Wireless_ may have given him in the past, all was
forgiven now, when danger lurked over the motor boat flotilla.
"Come along!" called Jack, over his shoulder; "the quickest way to find
out what it all means, is to get there. Hit it up a little swifter, all
of you! Put your best foot forward, and run!"
They accordingly did so. What mattered it if occasionally one of them
did happen to trip, and come down with a hard thump; it was only a
question of a few seconds for the unlucky one to scramble to his feet,
and a few bruises more or less surely did not count.
In this fashion, then, they covered the remainder of the ground that lay
between the camp and themselves.
Jack, being in the lead, was the first to glimpse what was going on.
He held up a warning arm to head off the impetuous rush of his mates;
and as they could plainly see his figure outlined against the bright
background of the fire-lighted zone, George and Josh and Jimmy all drew
up alongside the leader.
No one said anything. They were too busily engaged taking it all in, to
express themselves in any way. And, indeed, it was a sight well worth
observing, one that would return to them many a time, and always cause a
smile to creep across each boy's face.
For it was more humorous than tragical, though possibly one of the actors
in the affair looked upon it in the light of a serious proposition.
First, there was Herb aboard the good old _Comfort_, and engaged in
waving the ax, upon which he seemed to lay considerable dependence. He
appeared to be defying some enemy, and promising all sorts of dire
things if so be the boat was boarded.
But Nick's clarion voice was proceeding from a higher place; in fact, it
seemed to ooze forth from the branches of a small tree that happened to
grow not far from where the camp-fire had been started.
A look upward disclosed the fat boy, perched among the branches of the
said tree. He varied his outcries by waving the shotgun, which seemed to
be utterly useless in so far as discharging it was concerned.
There was a black bunch of hair busily engaged in trying to tear open
some of the provisions that the fat boy had "toted" ashore, in his
desire to get supper started. It was, in truth, a bear, a hungry animal
that had declined to gorge himself upon the remains of the jewfish, when
other and greater delicacies were within reach.
It was breaking the heart of poor Nick to see this vandal threatening
to dispose of all their precious food, so that they must go on scant
rations the rest of the way to Naples or Meyers. No wonder that the
hungry Nick whooped and yelled, calling the black pirate by all the hard
names he could think up.
Now and then the animal would appear to be disturbed by all this racket.
On such occasions he would shuffle over to the sapling in which the fat
boy was perched, raising his snout to sniff the air, as though half
tempted to make the climb, and punish his detractor as seemed most
fitting.
Nick evidently became fearful each time that he was going to be in
for it. He would howl worse than ever, and make all sorts of dreadful
threats as to what he might do in case such a thing happened.
"Oh! ain't you the lucky thing, though?" he bellowed, just as the others
ranged up to take the whole picture in. "If I hadn't been silly enough
to go ashore, carrying Herb's old gun, and forget to put any shells in
the same, I guess you'd be a dead bear right now, old top! Here, quit
shaking this tree, won't you? Think you own the whole ranch? Reckon
other people got some right to live. Just go back to your jewfish
dinner, and all may be forgiven; but you let our crackers and cheese and
bacon and hominy alone, hear that? Wow! there, he's gone and busted the
hominy sack! Look at the gump wasting all that fine food, would you?
Herb, can't you _please_ get some of those bully old shells over to me
somehow? I'd give a heap to tickle him between the sixth and seventh
ribs, sure I would!"
Just then Jack gave a peculiar little whistle. Nick heard it, and
immediately "perked up his ears," as Josh called it. He could be seen to
twist his head around, and try to locate the one who had given the well
known signal.
"Hey, Jack! wherever are you?" he called, in perplexity.
Jack did not dare make any reply. He had seen the bear start at the
sound of the signal whistle, just as if the sly beast understood that it
must surely spell danger for one of his type.
"Get ready to back me up, George, Jimmy!" Jack whispered.
They understood that since Jack carried the repeating rifle, it ought to
be his duty to fire first. Should he make a failure, then they could
come in, to try and load the marauding bear with all the lead possible.
If, after all, the beast managed to get away, he would at least surely
carry the marks of the warm engagement with him the rest of his natural
life.
By this time both Herb and Nick had discovered what was going on, and,
naturally enough, they were deeply interested.
"Give him Hail Columbia, Jack!" called Herb, waving his ax above his
head, as he stood there on the deck of the gallant old _Comfort_,
looking as though ready to hurl defiance at all the bears in South
Florida.
"Oh! be sure and pot him, Jack!" cried Nick, entreatingly. "I always
wanted to see what real bear steak tasted like. And honest now, I reckon
it'll be sweeter because the old villain ran me up this tree. Get a bead
on him, and make dead sure of your aim. Don't I wish I had some buckshot
shells up here? Wouldn't I have enjoyed peppering him, though. Wow! give
him another for his mother, Jack!"
Jack had waited until the bear turned, so as to expose his side. It
was his desire to send the bullet so that it would strike just back of
the foreleg, because he had always been told that that was the most
vulnerable spot in which to hit any large animal.
When the opportunity came he sent in his card. Instantly there arose a
tremendous commotion. The bear sent out a series of roars and whirled
around, to fall down, and then struggle to its feet again, while Nick
shouted in his excitement, and the other fellows added their voices to
his chorus.
Jack coolly pumped another cartridge into the firing chamber of his
repeating rifle, and stood ready to make a second try, if he found
reason to believe such action were needed.
It was quickly proven to his satisfaction that nothing of the kind was
required. The bear soon toppled over again, and from the way in which
the poor animal kicked it was plain to be seen that the last stage had
come.
"Bully! we're going to have bear steaks all right!" laughed the pleased
Nick; and then he added: "Say, Jack, do you really believe the old
sinner's kicked the bucket, or is he playing a little game to coax me
down? I'm sore from hanging up here so long. Give him a punch and see if
he moves, George. My gracious! what ails Josh, and where'd he get that
nightcap he's wearing?"--and, overcome by curiosity, the fat boy came
sliding down the bending sapling, to land in a heap at its foot.
Herb too came ashore, filled with wonder, and eager to hear the story,
which was told as they stood around the body of the bear that had
invaded the camp, and sent Nick in hot haste "shinning" up a tree.