SIX BOYS AND A WILDCAT
All of the other boys were much surprised by Spouter’s declaration that
there was some sort of animal in the branches of the tree Andy had just
ascended.
“What is it, Spouter?”
“Are you sure you saw it?”
“Was it a squirrel?”
“Couldn’t be a bear, could it?”
“No, it wasn’t a bear. It wasn’t large enough for a bear,” answered
Spouter. “It was just about the size of a great big tomcat.”
“Maybe it was a wildcat!” exclaimed Gif. “Wildcats have been shot more
than once around here.”
All of the boys rushed to pick up the firearms which had been dropped
when they had boosted Andy up the tree. Then they began to circle the
tree, looking up in all directions for a sight of the wild beast.
“What is it?” yelled Andy. And then he added quickly: “If you shoot,
don’t shoot me!”
“We can’t see anything,” answered Jack.
The boys on the ground were alarmed, but this was as nothing compared
to the alarm felt by Andy. His weapon had been left behind, and so he
was practically defenseless.
“There he is! I see him!” came suddenly from Randy. “There!” And he
pointed to a branch on one side of the tree. There was a flash of a
hairy body, a quivering of some of the leaves, and then all became
quiet again.
“It was a wildcat!”
“That’s just what it was!”
“Where did he go to?”
“Hi, you fellows!” cried Andy. “If it’s a wildcat don’t drive it up
here!”
“Can’t you break off a tree limb and use it for a club, Andy?” called
out Jack. “Maybe you can keep the wildcat from reaching you, anyway.”
The words had scarcely been uttered when with a catlike scream the
wildcat suddenly sprang from one side of the tree to the other. As it
passed through midair all of those below saw it plainly. It was full
grown and had a pair of glaring greenish eyes and claws that looked
exceedingly formidable.
Bang! It was Spouter’s weapon that spoke, but the charge of shot passed
below the limb on which the wildcat now rested. The youth had been
afraid to aim his weapon too high for fear of hitting Andy.
As the shotgun blazed forth the wildcat leaped to another branch of the
tree. This brought the beast in full view of where Gif and Jack were
standing. Simultaneously both boys raised their weapons and blazed away.
“He’s struck! He’s struck!” cried Randy, and as he uttered the words
the wildcat came tumbling down out of the tree into some brushwood.
Here the beast thrashed around for an instant and then crouched low as
if for a leap at the boys.
“Look out!” yelled Jack. “He’s going to spring!”
Then with a spitting snarl the wildcat made a leap. But as it did
so the small rifle Fred carried spoke up and a bullet went straight
through its head, killing it almost instantly.
“Is he dead?” questioned Randy, after the wildcat had fallen
quiveringly on the dead leaves of the forest.
“I guess so,” answered Fred. “But don’t go too near, he may be only
wounded.”
All of the boys had been taught to load up immediately after firing,
and now their first attention was given to their weapons.
“How about it? Did you hit him?” questioned Andy.
“Yes. He’s as dead as a doornail,” announced Gif, after a gingerly
examination.
“Any more wildcats in the trees?”
“I don’t know. But you keep your eyes open.”
In a few minutes Andy was on the ground beside the others, and all
surveyed the wildcat with interest. It was a full grown creature and
had it had the chance might have done great damage.
“What shall we do with it?” questioned Fred. “I don’t know that I care
for it particularly.”
“We might take it to the bungalow, anyway,” answered Gif. “If we could
take it down to Beldane we could get a bounty on it.”
“A bounty?” queried Andy.
“Sure! They pay five or ten dollars a head for wildcats in this state.
And they pay a bounty on bears, too,” he added.
“Would we have to take the whole animal to Beldane?” questioned Spouter.
“I don’t think so. I think the head and skin would be plenty. In some
places all they ask for is the ears or the tail, or something like
that.”
The boys had learned how to take care of the game brought down, and
now, after taking several pictures of the animal, they speedily skinned
the wildcat, bringing the head with the pelt. The carcass they threw
into the bushes.
“Well, we got something, anyhow,” said Fred with satisfaction, as they
continued to follow the watercourse toward the lake.
“One fine shot you made, Fred,” answered Randy.
“Fred, I don’t know what I should have done if you hadn’t brought him
down,” put in Andy. “He might have come to the top of the tree after
me.”
“Oh, I guess he was more scared than we were,” answered the stout Rover
boy modestly. Yet, behind it all, he felt quite proud of the shot he
had made. It had been at close range and he had had to think and act
quickly.
The relaxation from the intensity of the situation was felt by all of
the lads, and long before the bungalow was reached they were in a merry
humor, singing, joking and whistling loudly.
“I’ll tell you what we might have done,” said Gif. “We might have set a
bear trap and used that wildcat for a bait.”
“Would the bear go into such a trap?” questioned Jack. “I thought
they didn’t care very much for meat, especially in the summer time. I
thought they liked roots and things like that better.”
“We might have put some maple sugar in the trap with the meat,”
answered Gif. “Bears like sweets, you know.”
The boys arrived at the bungalow about sundown. All were too tired for
a while to do more than sit around and rest. Finally, however, they
prepared themselves a simple evening meal, and almost as soon as this
was disposed of one after another shoved off to bed.
“This is the ideal life,” said Jack, as he was undressing. “A fellow
doesn’t have to have any appetizing sauce for what he eats and he
doesn’t have to be rocked to sleep.”
“My dad always said that it made a new man of him to spend a week or
two up here in the woods,” answered Gif.
In the morning the boys took their usual plunge in the lake and after
breakfast decided to take one of the rowboats and go up to Big Bear
Cove and try their hand at fishing. Fred had noted a certain hole under
some large overhanging trees where he was certain they would be able to
get some pickerel of good size.
As they had done the day before, they took a lunch with them so that
there would be no hurry about getting back. And this was just as well,
because once they were at the fishing they found the sport so fine that
they hated to think of giving it up. Each one of them caught both perch
and pickerel, and one of the finny tribe landed by Jack weighed at
least two pounds and a half, while another, caught by Spouter, weighed
almost as much.
“We’ll have fish enough for several days,” said Gif.
“If only we can keep some of them alive,” answered Randy.
“Oh, I think we can. I’ve been fixing up that pound in the brook, you
know.”
The day was not without its surprises. Once Randy was standing on a
small point of rocks and had what he thought was a magnificent catch.
Suddenly the fish whisked around and before the lad could save himself
he lost his balance and went into the lake with a big splash.
“Hurrah! Randy’s gone in swimming with all his clothes on!” cried Andy.
“Don’t let the fish pull you away,” called out Fred gayly.
“Catch the pole! Catch the pole!” called Randy, as he came up to his
feet and scrambled out on the rocks. “There goes the fish with my pole!”
Jack handed his own pole to Spouter and made a leap for the rowboat.
Getting in, he sculled rapidly after the pole, which was being jerked
along the surface of the lake. As he caught the pole there was a snap,
and the empty line came flying toward him. What became of the fish they
never learned.
After that things went along quietly for half an hour. Then, of a
sudden, Spouter let out a yell.
“Hannibal’s ghost!” he called out. “I’ve got the biggest fish yet! Gee,
I can hardly budge him!”
“Play him, Spouter! Play him!” called out Gif. “Don’t let him get away
from you.”
“I knew some whopping big fish were down in that hole,” cried Fred.
“Play him for all you’re worth, Spouter!”
“I can’t budge him,” gasped Spouter. “Gee, what a catch!”
Spouter was so excited that all the others pulled in their lines and
ran to where he stood close to the bent-over trees which lined the edge
of that side of the cove. Spouter was trying his best to haul in, but
without avail.
“Maybe your line is caught,” suggested Gif.
“No, it’s a fish. I’m sure of it,” answered Spouter. “I felt it pull.”
All crowded closer to give Spouter whatever advice and assistance
they could. Even Gif tried to pull in on the line, but without avail.
Finally, however, Spouter twisted the line a little to one side, and
then up came the hook and attached to it what looked like the remains
of an old hunting boot.
“Well, what do you know about that!” cried Spouter, in disgust.
“Nothing but an old boot!”
“And I’ll bet it was caught in between the loose roots of the trees,”
said Jack. And then there was a general laugh, in which even Spouter
joined.
It was nearly five o’clock before the boys got into the rowboat again
and started to return to the bungalow. They had fifteen perch and seven
pickerel to their credit, and of this catch they were justly proud.
“We’ll have one dandy fish supper to-night,” said Randy, smacking his
lips. “And we won’t have Jeff here to burn it up for us, either.”
“Yum, yum! I can smell the frying fish already,” murmured Gif.
The boys took turns at rowing and soon reached the lake proper and then
sent the craft flying in the direction of the bungalow. As they came
close to the dock Spouter, who was looking ahead, set up a sudden shout
of wonder.
“Hello! what do you know about this? The other boats are gone!”
“The boats gone!” cried Gif. “Are you sure?”
“Look for yourself, Gif. We left them tied to the dock, didn’t we?”
“We sure did.”
The two boats that had been left at the bungalow dock were certainly
missing, and much mystified the six boys landed, to gaze around in
bewilderment. But gaze as hard as they might, they could see nothing of
the missing craft.
“Do you suppose Tommy Flanders and his crowd took them away?”
questioned Jack.
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” answered Gif.
Fred and Randy had turned toward the front door of the bungalow. The
key to this was hanging on a nail, and taking it down they unlocked
the door and threw it open. As they passed into the house a cry of
astonishment broke from them.
“Did you ever see anything like it before?”
“Who did this?”
“What’s the matter in there?” called out Gif.
“Matter? Everything’s the matter,” answered Fred.
“They’ve smashed up the whole house!” added Randy.