WHAT LAY IN THE BRUSH
"Wake up, Paul!"
Bobolink accompanied these whispered words by a gentle shake. He seemed
to know instinctively just where the scout master was lying; or else it
must have been, that all this had been systematically laid out
beforehand; and every fellow had a particular place where he was to curl
up in his blanket when not on duty.
Paul was awake instantly, even though he had been far gone in sleep at
the moment that hand touched his arm.
"All right, Bobolink," he said, in a low tone, so as not to arouse any of
the others. "I'm with you. Time up?"
"Not quite, Paul; but there's some sort of beast creeping around the
camp; and I thought you ought to know."
Paul sat up at once.
"You did the right thing, Bobolink," he remarked, quietly.
The sentry could hear him groping around, as if for something. Presently
Paul seemed to have found what he sought. Of course it was his shotgun.
Wildcats were to be found in some of the woods not many miles from
Stanhope. The scouts knew this, because they had experience with these
bold pests, who had been attracted by the smell of food in their camp.
Besides, there were sometimes packs of wild dogs roaming the woods
that might need to be taught a lesson, in case they gave the campers
any trouble.
So Paul had been wise to bring that double-barreled gun along. In a
pinch it would prove a handy thing to have with them. And no doubt it
gave Bobolink considerable satisfaction to realize that Paul had such a
weapon handy.
Immediately the sentry started to crawl out of the tent again, with Paul
close at his heels. A head was raised, and one of the supposed sleepers
watched the dim figures retreating.
It was Nuthin, who had chanced to be restless, and was awake at the time
Bobolink came in to arouse the scout master. He had heard all that passed
between them, and of course felt a thrill at the idea of some ferocious
wild beast prowling around the tents.
Hardly had the other pair withdrawn before Nuthin started after them. He
might be a rather timid boy by nature; but when there was anything going
on Nuthin could not rest content unless he placed himself in a position
where he could see or hear--perhaps both.
Bobolink led the way back to the post he had been occupying at the time
he made his discovery. He hoped those luminous eyes would still be
there, because it might not look just right should he be able to show no
proof of his story; and boys will take occasion to make all sorts of
jeering remarks about a fellow falling asleep on his post, and dreaming
wonderful things.
So it was with considerable anxiety that the sentry crept along to the
very spot which he remembered he had been occupying at the time.
Considerably to his dismay he could see nothing. There was the patch of
brush in which he had discovered those gleaming orbs, and from which had
arisen a low, threatening growl when he first moved off; but look as he
might Bobolink was unable to detect the first sign of a hostile presence.
He felt disgusted with himself. Luck seemed to be playing him all
manner of tricks of late, and nothing went right. There was that affair
of the queer boxes which had been bothering him so long; then the
mystery of the unknown men who had ordered the scouts to leave the
island in such a peremptory fashion, without giving the least reason
for their churlishness. And now, here, even this little matter could
not work straight.
"It's gone, Paul!" he felt compelled to mutter, after striving several
times to detect some sign, however faint, of those terrible yellow eyes.
"Just where did you see it, Bobolink?" asked the scout master, knowing
from his chum's manner how disappointed the sentry must feel that he was
thus unable to prove his assertion.
"Right in that brush yonder; you c'n see it looks darker than anything
else," replied Bobolink, eagerly; as if hoping that after all Paul's eyes
might prove better than his own, and pick up the lost glow.
"Well, it seems to have gone away, then," said the scout master.
"I'm afraid so," grumbled Bobolink, for all the world as though his whole
reputation for veracity depended on his showing the other that he had not
been imagining things when he gave his alarm.
"What did you see?" continued Paul.
"Two yellow eyes, and say, weren't they just awful, though? But seems
like the varmint has side-stepped, and vamoosed. Just my luck, hang it! I
wanted you to see 'em the worst kind, Paul."
"A pair of shining eyes, eh? When you moved, did you hear anything,
Bobolink?"
"Sure I did. It growled just like our dog does at home, when he's got a
bone, and anybody gets too near him," the sentry hastened to explain.
"Made you think of a dog, did it, and not a cat?" asked Paul, quickly.
"Why, yes, I reckon it did," replied Bobolink; "leastways, that's what
came into my mind. But then a big cat, a regular bobcat, I take it, could
growl that way, if it felt a notion to."
"You came straight in to wake me up, of course?" continued Paul,
wishing to figure on the time that might have elapsed since Bobolink
left his post.
"Crawled right in, and we got back here in a jiffy; but you see it was no
use when that jinx is on my trail, meanin' to loco everything I do. Now,
I reckon if it'd been any other feller in the bunch, the critter'd just
stood its ground, and I'd be vindicated. But me--I'm hoodooed of late,
and can't do a thing straight."
"Listen!" said Paul, a little sharply, as though he had no sympathy with
such talk.
They strained their hearing for possibly a full minute. Then Bobolink,
who liked to talk, could no longer hold in.
"What'd you think you heard, Paul?" he whispered.
"A little rustling sound just alongside the brush you pointed out," the
scout master replied.
"But you didn't get it again; did you?" urged the other.
"No. But that needn't be proof that something isn't there, and watching
us, even if we don't glimpse his eyes," replied Paul.
"Oh!" ejaculated Bobolink, with a sudden sense of relief in his voice.
"You heard the rustling then; didn't you?" Paul demanded.
"I sure did, and right over back of the brush it seemed to be. P'raps
he's givin' the camp the shake, Paul; mebbe he's made up his mind it
ain't as healthy a place as he thought, after all."
"It couldn't be one of the other sentries moving around, I suppose?"
ventured Paul, at which his companion gave a low chuckle.
"With those glaring yellow eyes? Well, hardly, Paul. My stars! but if
you'd only seen 'em, you'd never say that. And besides, the boys were
ordered not to leave their posts, only to wake up the fellow that
came after 'em. Oh! put it down for me that isn't any of our bunch
stirring around."
"Then I must find out what it is!" said Paul, with a ring of
determination in his voice.
"Wow! d'ye mean to rush the beast, Paul, and try to knock him over with a
charge of Number Sevens?" demanded Bobolink.
"I've got something better than that to scare him off," replied Paul.
"You know we don't want to shoot a gun, if we can help it; because the
report would tell the men that we'd come back, and might bring trouble.
I've got my little electric hand torch with me, and if I flash that into
the face of any wild animal the chances are it'll give him a scare
that'll send him off about his business."
"Oh! I forgot all about that," said Bobolink. "It's just the thing, too.
How lucky you brought it along, Paul."
Bobolink looked on a good many things as "luck," one way or the other,
when of a truth they were really planned ahead. The scout master had
realized that such a useful little contrivance would be apt to come in
handy on many occasions, when camping out, and had made it a particular
point to put the torch in his pack before leaving home.
He had it beside him as he slept, but did not consider it wise to press
the button when awakened, lest the flash arouse the others who were
sleeping in the same tent.
Bobolink could feel him moving away, and not meaning to be left behind,
he started after. Bobolink possessed courage, even if he lacked
discretion. The possibility of an encounter with this doubtless savage
animal did not deter him from following his leader.
Again they heard that suspicious rustling in the bushes ahead, this time
louder than before. And quickly on the heels of this sound came a low,
threatening growl that, strangely enough, made Bobolink chuckle softly,
he was so pleased over having his announcement proven true to the
Commodore of the motorboat fleet.
"Look out, Paul," he whispered; "he's laying for you in those bushes.
Better keep your gun handy, and be ready to give him Hail Columbia!"
Paul did not answer. He had his gun held in such a way that it could be
fired with a second's warning. At the same time his left hand was
gripping the little electric torch, with his thumb pressed against the
trigger that would connect the battery, and send an intense ray of light
wherever he pointed.
When he heard another rustle, and a growl even more vicious than before,
he judged about the position of the sounds, and pointing the end of the
torch straight ahead, pressed the button.
As the vivid flash followed Paul saw something that looked like a
crouching panther staring at the dazzling glow of his torch--a hairy
beast that had rather a square head, and a tail that was lashing to and
fro, just as he had seen that of a domestic cat move with jerks, when a
hostile dog approached too close to suit her ideas of safety.