PACKING OVER THE "CARRY"
Later on the conversation began to lag. Steve was noticed drowsily
nodding his head in a suggestive way; and then after a sudden start he
would look around aggressively, as if to remark: "who said I was
sleepy?" but within three minutes he would be at it again.
In fact all of the boys were really tired out. The day's tramp had been
a difficult one, even for fellows accustomed to such things; and those
regular Adirondack packs, with a band crossing the forehead in the usual
way, had seemed doubly heavy before they decided to stop for the night.
Of course there were sounds to be heard all around them, but
"familiarity breeds contempt," and from Max down they were all
accustomed to hearing similar noises whenever they spent nights in the
open. The owl would whinny or hoot according to his species; the loon
send forth his agonizing and weird shriek from some distant lake; a fox
might bark sharply and fretfully, or two quarrelsome 'coons dispute over
a bit of food they had discovered--all this went with the camping
business, and indeed it would have seemed odd to those boys had the
usual accompaniment been missing.
"Well, what's the use of our staying up longer?" Max finally announced
in an authoritative fashion, after Steve had almost jerked his neck awry
for about the seventh time, with one of those spasmodic movements. "Our
blankets are calling to us, boys; let's turn in."
There was no negative vote recorded, for every one seemed ready to call
it a day, and quit. Max took it upon himself to look after the fire.
Plenty of wood had been gathered to last until morning, and then some;
for, as the night air was beginning to feel pretty sharp, it was
concluded to keep the fire going.
"I'll look out for that part," said Max. "I generally wake up just so
many times during the night when I'm in camp, and it's no trouble for me
to crawl out and toss another stick on the fire. So forget it, fellows,
will you?"
Apparently the others took him at his word, for not another sign of any
of them was seen while night lasted. Once they snuggled down in their
warm comfortable blankets, they must have become "dead to the world," as
Steve aptly termed it.
Several times while the night held sway a figure would crawl noiselessly
out of the crude brush shanty shelter, and place another lot of wood
upon the dwindling fire, thus keeping it going for another spell of
several hours. Of course this was Max, who really liked to take an
observation concerning the state of the weather, note the changed
positions of the heavenly bodies, so that he could figure on the
passage of time; and then once more creep into the folds of his blanket
to again fall into a deep sleep.
So the night passed.
Nothing occurred to disturb its serenity. The little four-footed woods
folks doubtless prowled all around the boys' camp, eyeing the glimmering
fire with wonder and distrust, for it could not be a familiar sight to
any of them, since mankind seldom visited this inaccessible region so
far removed from the track of ordinary travel. Some of the more daring
among them, venturesome 'coons or 'possums perhaps, may even have
invaded the precincts of the charmed circle, searching with their keen
little noses for traces of castaway food; but, if so, their presence did
not disturb the sleepers within that shelter.
So morning came on apace, and presently from the brush shanty one after
another of the fellows came creeping forth, to stretch and yawn and
finally hasten their dressing, for the frosty air nipped fingers and
toes quite lustily.
They were in no particular hurry, and breakfast therefore was undertaken
in the best of humor, with plenty of time given to its preparation.
Everybody seemed to be in the best of humors, and his good sleep must
have smoothed even the spirit of the fretful Bandy-legs, for he no
longer grumbled or found fault. Perhaps, as so frequently happened, he
was secretly ashamed of having shown such a suspicious and
argumentative disposition on the preceding evening, and meant to make
amends for it by an unusually cheery manner.
It was determined to "break camp" soon after the matin meal had been
comfortably dispatched. This did not promise to be an extraordinary
feat, since they were trying to go light-handed on this expedition, and
did not have many of their ordinary "traps" along, from a tent down to
certain cooking utensils that had been deemed too heavy for "toting"
mile after mile into the wilderness.
It makes a whole lot of difference just how fellows mean to go, when
laying out the impedimenta for a trip. If a wagon or a boat is
available, all sorts of things may as well be taken along, so as to
insure the maximum of comfort; but when it is known in the beginning
that all they are meaning to use must be packed every mile of the way on
the back of the campers, then it is high time to cut down the list to
the last fraction, so far as weight and bulk are concerned.
Max and his chums had reduced this down to a real science. For instance,
having a comfortable balance at the bank, thanks to their thrift in the
past,[2] money did not enter into their calculations at all.
Consequently, they had purchased a complete little outfit of aluminum
cooking vessels that nested within each other and weighed next to
nothing, while offering all the advantages of ordinary granite ware.
Other campers' comforts, too, had been secured, so that they even
carried a certain amount of condensed food in the shape of milk powder;
evaporated eggs that could be used to make excellent omelets in case of
necessity; and even soup in double cans, with a layer of unslacked lime
between, which, by the addition of a little water to the lime could be
heated up beautifully without the aid of a fire.
[2] "In camp on the Big Sunflower."
When all of them started in to get busy, things quickly assumed a
concentrated condition. Each article had its regular place where it
would take up the least possible space. Why, by now every fellow had
found out just how to do up his pack so that no sharp and uncomfortable
edges would cut into his back; and when this condition has been reached,
it means that the last word in packing has been learned.
Max himself saw to it that the fire was effectually "killed" before they
quitted the scene of their night encampment. This he did by throwing
water on the hissing embers until it was quite dead. If every party that
spends a night in the wilderness took the same pains to put out their
fire on leaving, many a magnificent stretch of timber would be spared
from the ravages of a forest fire, that leaves only blackened tree
trunks behind, and ruins thousands of acres of wooded land every year.
Although a fire may die down, and seem to have little life in it, there
is no absolute surety unless water be used, that a rising wind may not
fan the embers into renewed activity, until a dangerous spark is carried
into some nest of dead leaves near by, and so the fire starts that
man-power can seldom control.
"Three miles, he said, up this stream," observed Bandy-legs, as they
started gaily forth, Max in the lead, and Toby bringing up the rear.
"And as no doubt the said stream meanders considerably in its course,
that might mean only half the distance as the crow flies," remarked the
leader, turning once more to look back toward the deserted camp, after
the fashion of a carpenter who considers it wise to measure his post
_once again_ before applying the saw, because after the deed is done the
parts can never be put together again; but everything seemed still, and
not the faintest whisp of smoke crept lazily upward from the late
camp-fire.
They walked along for a short distance, and then upon crossing a little
rise, in order to skirt a bad section of marshy ground, it was
discovered that they had a good chance to look backward. A rather pretty
view rewarded their efforts, and as all the boys appreciated Nature in
her fall dress, they stood for a minute drinking this in.
"You can follow the course of the stream for quite a distance, notice?"
remarked Bandy-legs. "And I even see the place where we yanked Steve
here out of that sand."
Steve frowned as he looked, and Max could see that he had gone a little
white. The memory of his harrowed feelings on that occasion would stay
with Steve for quite some time, and produce an unpleasant sensation
every time it came before his mental vision.
Max also saw him shut his teeth very hard together, and was close enough
to even catch a word or two the boy muttered savagely to himself.
"Never again!"
From that Max could judge the lesson had been impressed on Steve's mind
indelibly; and that as long as he lived he would be careful how he
entered an unknown stream when fishing; and especially how he became so
engrossed in his sport as to stand a length of time in one spot, without
working his feet up and down so as to make sure they were free from
clinging sand.
They chatted from time to time as they proceeded, and of course all
sorts of subjects cropped up to be discussed. Sometimes there was a
little good-natured dispute concerning something or other, for boys have
different minds, and are apt to view things from various angles; but as
time passed they made such good progress that Max presently announced
his belief they must presently glimpse the seven birch trees mentioned
by Obed Grimes, as marking the place where they were to quit the bank of
the stream.
At the time they stopped to look backward Max had scanned the country
behind them, looking for some trace of another camp smoke, but seeing
fond of "working his way," and often slipped out of things when he
could manage it--some fellows always do get hold of the smaller end of
the log that is being carried, as if by instinct; though it would be
hardly fair to call them shirkers.
They rested for something like ten minutes. Then Max started up.
"Here's the trail Obed told us about," he observed, pointing down at his
feet as though he had been looking about him while recuperating after
that three mile carry. "And I guess we might as well be going on. For
one I'm beginning to feel quite curious to see that lodge of his under
the pines and hemlocks, as well as learn what he is doing with his fox
farm."
Bandy-legs opened his mouth, and then considered it better not to voice
the question he had on the tip of his tongue, for he shut his jaws tight
together again, and did not speak; Max noticing this, it caused him to
smile in quiet satisfaction. That was a very disagreeable habit of
Bandy-legs, always questioning things, and wanting double proof before
he would put the stamp of his approval on them; and Max kept hoping that
in the process of time it could be broken up.
It was not difficult to follow the trail, even though at times this
proved to be rather faint and undecided; at least it turned out to be an
easy task with the four chums, simply because they were accustomed to
such things. A greenhorn might have lost the track many times, and made
a none. He had in mind the story told by Obed concerning the presence
in the vicinity of another party, and his suspicions concerning their
base intentions. Apparently Max must have believed what the woods boy
said, even though he could see no sign of a camp that morning.
"I've got an idea the seven birches are just over yonder, boys!"
announced Steve, who possessed good eyesight. "Twice now I've glimpsed
something white among the thickets of undergrowth; and you can see that
the creek is beginning to swing around so as to lead us in that
direction."
"G-g-guess you're about r-r-right, Steve!" declared Toby Jucklin,
instantly; "to t-t-tell you the t-t-truth, I've been squinting that same
p-p-patch of white myself q-q-quite some little time now."
It turned out to be just as Steve had prophesied. They soon discovered a
bunch of birches growing from the stump of a larger tree that had long
ago fallen under the ax of a woodsman.
"There are seven, all right--count 'em!" announced Steve with a vein of
exultation in his voice, just as though by right of discovery those
birches really belonged to him.
"Let's call a little rest before we tackle the last round," begged
Bandy-legs, as they arrived alongside the landmark mentioned by Obed;
and without waiting for the others to assent he dropped his pack, and
threw himself down on an especially inviting bit of moss, heaving a
great sigh of relief; for be it known, Bandy-legs was not especially
"mountain out of a mole-hill," as Steve aptly put it, when referring to
the matter.
Soon they were casting eager glances ahead, under the impression that
they must certainly be drawing near the object of their search. Even
Bandy-legs had by now apparently arrived at the belief that Obed was
"straight," and that he really did have some sort of home in this
secluded region. The directions had turned out to be exact, from the
three-mile tramp along the stream and the "seven birches, count 'em"; to
the winding trail that led from that point deeper into the woods.
"Looky there, isn't that some sort of high wire fence?" demanded Steve,
suddenly.
"And, say, I got a plain whiff of sweet hickory wood smoke then, believe
me," added Bandy-legs, in some excitement, and evidently forgetting that
not long before he had been skeptical regarding the existence of any
lodge or fox farm.
"Well, there's the answer right before you," laughed Max; and as they
stared in the direction their leader was pointing, the balance of the
little party saw what seemed to be the "cutest" little cabin fashioned
from sawn logs, and nestling in a happy fashion directly under the
clustering pines and hemlocks, that hung over it most protectingly, as
though with the intention of keeping the winter snows from weighing down
the sloping roof.
At one end was a chimney made of slabs of wood, with the chinks filled
in with mud that, in the process of time, aided by the heat of the fire,
had become as hard as cement or adamant; and from this there curled
wreaths of lazily ascending blue smoke, the source of that delightful
odor that had drifted to Bandy-legs's nostrils.