BIG GAME AND A NIGHT IN CAMP
"IT'S a bad time to follow through the woods," remarked Corporal Cotter.
"There goes the sun behind the tops."
"It'll be dark within five or six minutes more," said Noll. "If Hal
Overton is running about in the woods, I think the best thing to do will
be to run two lanterns up to the tree top, so that Overton can locate
the camp. Then, if he's in any further difficulty, he'll fire the rifle
signal. What do you think, lieutenant?"
"Nothing," replied Mr. Prescott promptly. "You're in temporary command
here, Sergeant Terry."
"Run up the camp lights, Johnson," Noll directed.
These lights, a red and a green one, were quickly run up on halyards to
almost the top of a tall fir tree.
It was quickly dark, but camp now waited to learn the meaning of so many
shots.
"Hey, there's Dinkelspiel's Comet let loose in the sky!" announced
Private Johnson.
"Wrong! It's Overton waving a torch from a tree top," returned Noll,
studying the flame sweeps of the distant torch that waved. "Johnson get
hold of the halyards and raise and lower the lanterns two or three times
to let Sergeant Overton know that we see his signal."
The distant signalman now began waving his torch from right to left,
following the regular code.
"Send--here--all--men--can--spare," read Sergeant Terry,
following the torch's movements with his eyes.
"Will--signal--time--to--time--till--men--arrive. Overton."
"He must be in trouble," cried Hyman.
"No; he's struck game," retorted Noll. "Johnson, raise and lower the
lanterns three times to show Sergeant Overton that his signal has been
read. Now, then, we'll all get out there on a hike--a fast hike. But
we'll have to leave some one here who can read further signals.
Lieutenant, do you mind, sir, watching further signals?"
"Why, yes," agreed young Mr. Prescott, laughing, "if you feel that I'll
be of no use on the hike. But if you asked me what I'd like, I'd rather
go with you."
"Very good, sir. Corporal Hyman, you will remain here and watch for
further signals. Kelly and Slosson, of course, will stay by the supper.
The rest--forward!"
"Guns, Sergeant?" called one of the men.
"Two of you bring rifles, in case of trouble. The rest had better be
unencumbered. Forward."
Having located his bunkie's direction, Noll had little difficulty in
finding the way. Most of the time they were within sight of the torch
that moved from time to time.
"Hel-lo, bun-kie!" hailed Noll when the party was within an eighth of a
mile of the tree.
"Hello! Glad you're here."
From the subsequent movements of the torch the approaching party knew
that Overton was going down the tree. Then they saw him coming over the
ground.
"What's up?" hailed Noll.
"Nothing. I've just come down," retorted Sergeant Hal.
"What have you been doing?"
"Killing game," replied Sergeant Overton, as he headed toward them.
"What kind?"
"How much?"
"All you'll want to lug back," chuckled Sergeant Hal gleefully. "Come
on, now, and I'll show you. You see," Sergeant Hal continued, as the
party joined him, "I got a sight at a fine antelope buck to windward and
only four hundred yards away. I brought him down the first shot."
"Oh, come now, Sarge!" teased Private Johnson.
"I fired two shots, but the first toppled him," insisted Hal. "Come,
look here."
Hal Overton halted under the trees, pointing with his torch.
It was certainly a fine, sleek, heavy buck to which Hal pointed.
"But you didn't need all of us to carry it in, did you?" demanded one of
the men.
"Not exactly," laughed Hal happily. "Swing on to the buck, a couple of
you, and come along. I'll tell you the rest. Just after I fired the
second shot I heard a growl close to me. Less than a hundred yards away
I heard a sound of paws moving toward me. Then I saw him. There he is."
Sergeant Overton's torch now lit up the carcass of a dead brown bear,
one of the biggest that any of them had ever seen.
"And right behind him," went on Hal, "was Mrs. Bruin. I can tell you, my
nerve was beginning to ooze. But I fired--and here's the lady bear."
Sergeant Hal led his soldier friends to the second bear carcass.
"But it wasn't more than a second or two later," laughed Hal, though
some of the soldiers now noticed the quiver in his voice, "that I began
to think some one had locked me in with a menagerie and turned the key
loose. Just beyond were a he-bear and two more females, and they were
plainly some mad and headed toward me."
"Whew!" whistled Lieutenant Prescott. "What did you do?"
"Shook with the buck fever," admitted the boyish sergeant, with a laugh.
"I'm not joking, either. I didn't expect to get back to camp alive, for
it was growing dark in here under the trees, and I knew I couldn't
depend on my shooting. I'm almost afraid I closed my eyes as I fired and
kept firing. But, anyway----"
Hal stopped, holding his torch so as to show the carcass of another male
bear. Not many yards away lay two females.
"An antelope and five bears!" gasped Lieutenant Prescott. "Sergeant
Overton, you've qualified for the sharpshooter class in two minutes!"
"I don't claim any credit for the last three bears," insisted Hal. "I
simply don't know how I hit 'em. It wasn't marksmanship, anyway."
"Nonsense!" spoke Prescott almost sharply. "It was clever shooting and
uncommonly brave work."
"Brave, sir?" retorted Hal, laughingly. "Lieutenant, do you note how my
teeth are still chattering? I'm shaking all over, still, for that
matter."
"Talk until morning light comes, and you can't throw any discredit
either on your shooting or your nerve, Sergeant Overton. If you won't
take a young officer's word for it," answered Mr. Prescott, "then ask
any of the old, buck doughboys in this outfit."
"It's a job an old hunter'd brag about," glowed one of the soldiers.
Forgetting, for the time, their hunger, the men wandered from one
carcass to another, examining them to see where the hits had been made.
"If you men are not going to get together soon, to pick up these
animals, I'll have to tote 'em all myself," Prescott reminded them.
"Terry, will you swing on under this bear with me?"
The two managed to raise it.
"Here, Lieutenant, that's not for you to do," remonstrated Sergeant
Overton. "Let me take hold of your end."
"I'm not a weakling, thank you," retorted Mr. Prescott. "I'll do my
share, and I recommend you to proclaim that any man who doesn't do his
share doesn't eat to-night. But as for you, Sergeant Overton, I shall
have a bad opinion of this outfit if they let you carry anything more
than your rifle back to camp this night."
And that motion was carried unanimously. Sergeant Hal was forced to go
ahead as guide, while the others, the lieutenant included, buckled
manfully to their burdens.
Not infrequently they had to halt and rest, for the carcasses were
fearfully heavy, even for men as toughened as regulars.
Yet, finally, they did manage to get Hal's prizes back to camp.
"Another day or two like this, and we needn't be ashamed to face the men
back at Clowdry," observed Lieutenant Prescott complacently. "Six bears
and a buck antelope in one day is no fool work, even if one man did do
it all."
"But you killed the bear this morning, sir," urged Sergeant Hal.
"Yes, Sergeant; after you had fired the first shot and had crippled the
beast so that it couldn't get away from me."
Not even to gloat over the big haul of game, however, could the men wait
any longer for their long-deferred evening meal.
There was a general washup, after which the entire party went to table.
Lieutenant Prescott permitted one concession to his rank. He sat at
table with the enlisted men, but he had one end of the board all to
himself.
Two ruddy campfires now shed their glow over the table. It was a rough
scene, but one full of the sheer joy of outdoor, manly life.
"I hope, Kelly, that the long wait hasn't encouraged to-night's bear
meat to dry up in the pans," remarked the lieutenant pleasantly.
"No fear o' that, sir," replied the soldier cook. "Instead, the meat had
simmered so long in its own juices that a thin pewter fork would pick it
to pieces."
"How much meat is there?" asked Private Johnson, whereat all the men
laughed as happily as schoolboys on a picnic.
"Never ye fear, glutton," retorted Kelly. "There's more meat than any
seventeen giants in the fairy tales could ever eat at one sitting."
And then on it came--great hunks of roast bear meat, flanked with
browned potatoes and gravy; flaky biscuits, huge pats of butter, bowls
heaped with canned vegetables. Pots of steaming coffee passed up and
down the table.
Hunters in the wilds get back close to nature, and have the appetites of
savages. These men around the camp table ate, every man of them, twice
as much as he could have eaten back at company mess at Fort Clowdry.
Then, to top it all, came more coffee and mince pie in abundance. Nor
did these hardy hunters, after climbing the mountain trails all day,
fear the nightmare. Their stomachs were fitted to digest anything
edible!
It was over at last, and pipes came out here and there, though not all
of the soldiers smoked.
Hal Overton was one of those who did not smoke. He had brought out his
rubber poncho and a blanket, and had placed these on the frosty ground
at some distance from one of the campfires.
"You are looking rather thoughtful, Sergeant," observed Lieutenant
Prescott, strolling over to Overton. "I hope I am not interrupting any
train of thought."
"No, sir."
"May I sit down beside you?"
"Certainly, sir."
Sergeant Hal moved over, making plenty of room on his blanket. Officer
and non-com. stretched themselves out comfortably, each resting on one
elbow.
"Nevertheless, Sergeant," continued Mr. Prescott, "you were thinking of
something very particular when I came along."
"I was just thinking, sir, how jolly this life is, and for that matter,
how jolly everything connected with the Army is. I was wondering why so
many young fellows let their earlier manhood slip by without finding
out what an ideal place the Army is."
"But what is especially jolly just now, Sergeant," replied the
lieutenant, "is the hunting. Now, men don't have to enter the Army in
order to have all the hunting they want."
"But we're drawing our pay while here," returned Overton. "And we are
having our expenses paid, too. The man in civil life doesn't get that.
If he hunts, he must do it at his own expense. Then there's another
point, sir. In the case of the average hunting party of men from civil
life it must be hard to find a lot of really good fellows, who'll keep
their good nature all through the hardships of camping. For instance,
where, in civil life, could you get together seventeen fellows, all of
them as fine fellows and as agreeable as we have here? But I beg the
lieutenant's pardon. I didn't intend to include him as one of the crowd,
for the rest are all enlisted men."
"I want to be considered one of the crowd," replied the young officer
simply.
"But you're not an enlisted man, sir."
"No; but I've cast my lot with the Army for life, and so, I trust, have
most of you enlisted men. Therefore we all belong together, though not
all can be officers. For that matter, I imagine there are a good many
men in the ranks of our battalion who wouldn't care to be officers.
Many soldiers are of a happy-go-lucky type, and wouldn't care to burden
themselves with an officer's responsibilities. Yet I certainly want to
be, as far as good discipline will permit, one of the crowd along with
all good, staunch and loyal soldiers, whatever their grades of rank may
be."
This was seeing the commissioned officer of Uncle Sam's Army in a
somewhat different light, even to one as keen and observing as Hal
Overton.
In garrison life it is very seldom that the enlisted man gets a real
glimpse of the "man side" of the officer. The requirements of military
discipline are such that officers and enlisted men do not often mingle
on any terms of equality. This fact, as far as the American Army goes,
is based on the military experience of ages that, when officers and men
mingle on terms of too much equality, discipline suffers sadly. It is
this intimacy of officers and men that keeps many National Guard
organizations from reaching greater efficiency.
Men have served through a whole term of enlistment in the regular Army
without realizing how friendly a really good and capable officer always
feels toward the really good enlisted men under his command. The captain
of a company, is, in effect, the father of his company, and his time
must be spent largely in looking after the actual welfare and happiness
of his men. In this work the captain's lieutenants are his assistants.
Soon the night grew much colder in this high altitude. Now the wood was
heaped on one fire, and around this blazing pile soldiers sat or
stretched themselves on blankets and ponchos. It is at such a time that
the soldier's yarns crop up. Story after story of the military life was
told. All in good time Lieutenant Prescott contributed his share, from
anecdotes of the old days at West Point.
Then it became so late that Sergeant Hal announced that Johnson and
Dietz would have the camp detail for the day following. This meant,
also, that Johnson and Dietz would therefore divide between them the
duty of watching over the camp through the night.
It was Johnson who took the first trick of the watch, while the others
turned in in their tents.
Holding his rifle across his knees, mainly as a matter of form, Johnson
sat down by the campfire, while his drowsy comrades turned in in their
tents and slept the sleep of the strong in that clear, crisp Colorado
air.