WAS IT A BURSTING METEOR?
"Who hit me?" exclaimed Bobolink, rubbing his eyes as he gained his feet
and looked around at the dimly-seen forms of the other scouts; for the
moon had by now sunk behind the horizon.
"What busted?" demanded Nuthin. "I bet it was that bottle of raspberry
vinegar my sister put in my knapsack. It's gone sour, and exploded, sure
as anything."
Strange to say, none of the others even bothered laughing at such a
foolish remark as this. They stared at the clear sky overhead, and the
twinkling stars looking down upon them, just as though winking to each
other, and enjoying the confusion of the valiant scouts.
Even Paul, who generally knew everything, seemed mystified.
"I declare if I can tell what it was," he said upon being appealed to by
some of the others in the group. "I was sound asleep, like the rest of
you, when all of a sudden it seemed as if the end of the world had come.
I felt the ground shake under me and as I opened my eyes it seemed as if
I was nearly blinded. The flash came and went just like lightning, and
that bang was what would pass for thunder in a storm; but for the life of
me I can't see any sign of trouble up there."
"And we don't hear anything more; do we?" demanded Jud.
"Sounded like a big cannon to me," remarked Jack.
"Couldn't be that the State troops are out, and having manoeuvres, with a
sham battle, could it?" questioned Gusty Bellows.
"Well, hardly, without somebody knowing about it. And they generally take
up that sort of thing later in the year. There's only one explanation
that sounds a bit reasonable to me," Paul went on.
"Tell us what that is, then?" asked Bobolink.
"I've heard about meteors falling, and exploding when they hit the
earth," the scout master went on to say.
"That's right!" echoed Jack; "and say, they're always accompanied by a
dazzling light, as they shoot through space, burning the air along with
them. Yes, siree, that must have been a big meteor stone."
"Then it struck the earth right close to our camp, mark me," vowed Jud.
"Ain't I glad it didn't pick out this spot to drop on," crowed
Nuthin. "Whew! guess we'd have been squashed flatter than that pancake
you hear about."
"What are meteors made up of--they drop from stars; don't they?"
asked Bob Tice.
"Oh! there's just millions and billions of 'em flying around loose," said
Phil Towns, who liked to read of astronomy at times. "Lots of 'em happen
to get caught in the envelope of air that surrounds the earth. Then they
fall victims to the force of gravitation, and come plunging down at such
speed that they do really burn the air, just like Jack said. You see,
they're made up for the most part of metals, and our old earth draws 'em
like a monster magnet."
"Is that what shooting stars are?" Bob went on to ask.
"Why, yes, they're really small meteors. We often pass through a mess of
'em. I've counted hundreds in a single night," Phil continued, always
willing to give any information he could along his favorite study.
"Well, they say lightning don't strike in the same place twice; and that
goes with your old buzzing meteors too, I reckon; so what's the use in
our staying up any longer?" remarked Bobolink, who seemed quite satisfied
with the explanation Paul had given of the queer noise, and the flash of
brilliant light.
So they crawled back into their snug nests, and tried to compose
themselves for sleep. But it is extremely doubtful whether a single one
of those eighteen boys secured so much as a decent cat-nap between that
hour and dawn.
Despite their apparent belief in the explanation of the phenomenon
advanced by Paul, the boys could not get rid of the notion that that
tremendous crash had something to do with the strange things told about
the haunted island, and which helped to give it its bad name.
They were up pretty early, too. The first birds were beginning to chirp
in the brush when figures came crawling out of the tents, with a great
stretching of arms, and long yawns.
Then the lake tempted many of the boys, and a great splashing announced
that those who could swim were enjoying a morning dip while others were
taking a lesson in learning the first rudiments in the art; for Paul
wanted every scout in Stanhope Troop to be able to swim and dive before
the Fall came on.
The scout master himself watched the proceedings, hardly able to get his
own dip because of his anxiety concerning those who, for the time being,
had been placed in his charge.
This thing of being responsible for seventeen lively boys is not all that
it may be cracked up to be; especially if the acting scout master is a
conscientious chap, alive to his duties. Paul felt the weight of the
load; but he did not shrink.
Breakfast was presently under way, and nobody found any fault when
Bobolink announced that he meant to instruct Nat Smith and another boy
just how to go about making those delicious flapjacks for which he
himself had become famous.
In the cooking contests, at the time the Stanhope Troop carried off their
banner in competition with the troops of Manchester and Aldine, Bobolink
had easily outclassed all rivals when it came to the science of camp
cookery, and his flapjacks were admitted without a peer, so that ever
since, when the boys had an outing, there was always a shout when it was
found that Bobolink was willing to get a mess of cakes ready for their
attention.
Although most of the boys had looked a bit peaked, and even haggard, when
they first issued from the tents, this had long since vanished. The
frolic in the cool water, and now this feast in the open, proved the
finest tonics possible.
They were now filled with new energy and pluck. Nobody dreamed of being
frightened away from camp by such a little thing as a meteor bursting
near by, or any other strange happening. Perhaps, when night came around
again, this buoyant feeling might take wings, and fly away; but then,
there would be fourteen and more hours before darkness again assailed
them, and what was the use fretting over things so far removed?
All had made up their minds to do a lot of things while up at camp,
according to their various tastes. One began to look around for subjects
he could take snapshots of, having a liking for photography. Another got
a companion to take up a station along the shore, so that they could
exchange messages, using the flags and the code.
Then there were several who evinced a decided interest in finding the
tracks of wild animals, like a raccoon, or a rabbit, or even a squirrel,
when nothing better presented itself. These they minutely examined, and
applied all sorts of theories in forming the story of the trail. In many
cases these proved very entertaining indeed, and Paul was always pleased,
with Jack's assistance, to pass on such things, being adapted through
practical experience to correct errors, and set the beginner straight on
certain facts that he had mixed.
There were numerous other things to do also. One boy loved to hunt wild
flowers, and as soon as he could coax a mate to accompany him, since Paul
would not allow the scouts to go off alone, he busied himself in the
undergrowth, looking in mossy spots for some of the shy blossoms that
appealed to his collecting taste.
Another seemed to have a love for geology. He wanted to find specimens
of every sort of stone, and hinted of certain stories of mining having
been carried on in these regions a century or two ago. But as he did not
find any ore that contained precious minerals in paying quantities,
during their stay on Cedar Island, the chances are that his father will
still have to go right along paying his bills, even after he gets into
college later in life.
The morning was slipping away fast, and they had not found any better
place to settle on for a camp. It seemed that, by the merest chance, they
had hit upon the best spot for a short stay on the island.
Three of the boys wandered along the shore, fishing. Paul had seen them
pull in several good-sized bass, and began to make up his mind that after
all they were going to have a fish dinner, if the luck held. He was even
debating whether he dared leave camp for a while, and taking his jointed
rod, joined the trio who had wandered around the bend of the eastern
shore of the island; for Paul certainly did love to feel a lively fish at
the end of his line, and could not think of leaving Lake Tokala without
giving its finny inhabitants a chance to get acquainted with him.
Just as he had about decided that he could be spared for the hour that
still remained until noon, Paul thought he heard a shout. Now, the
scouts had more than a few times given tongue during the morning, when
engaged in some boisterous game; but it struck Paul, whose nerves were
always on the alert for such things, while this responsibility rested on
his shoulders, that there was certainly a note, as of alarm, about this
particular outcry.
It seemed to come from around that bend, too, where he had seen the three
boys disappear. Even as he looked in that direction, he saw something
come in sight among the rocks that lay so thickly around. It was Gusty
Bellows, one of the anglers; yes, and there was Little Billie just behind
him, taking great leaps that promised to speedily leave the other far in
the lurch.
Paul's heart seemed to stand still. Where was Jud, who had been in the
company of the two? What could have happened?
The scout master dropped his rod, which he had been in the act of
jointing, and started on a run to meet the two fishermen; for he
could hear them shouting, though unable to distinguish just what they
were saying.