THE BOY SCOUTS
OF THE
NAVAL RESERVE
BY
SCOUT MASTER ROBERT SHALER
AUTHOR OF “THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE SIGNAL CORPS,” “THE BOY
SCOUTS OF PIONEER CAMP,” “THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE
GEOLOGICAL SURVEY,” “THE BOY SCOUTS ON
PICKET DUTY,” ETC., ETC.
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1914,
BY
HURST & COMPANY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Trail Up Cedar Hill 5
II. Scout Tactics 18
III. The Dancing Bear 31
IV. The Tracking Game 44
V. A Scout Ambulance 57
VI. Billy’s Lucky Jinx 70
VII. “All Aboard!” 84
VIII. Afloat with the Naval Militia 97
IX. The Night Landing of the Scouts 110
X. Establishing the Signal Relay 123
XI. A Temptation and a Victory 136
XII. With the Battleship Squadron 149
The Boy Scouts of the Naval Reserve.
CHAPTER I.
THE TRAIL UP CEDAR HILL.
“_How-oo-ooo!_”
This weird sound, supposed to be very much like the mournful howl of the
timber wolf heard on a wintry night in the wilderness, caused the boy on
the bicycle to laugh softly to himself as he looked up.
After running an errand for his mother to one of the farmers’ wives, he
had been pedaling carelessly along up the dusty road.
A couple of fellows of about his own age, one of whom was inclined to be
rather stout, were coming along a side road, making frantic motions for
him to wait until they arrived; the boy chuckled again.
“Seems like Billy is getting that signal cry of the Wolf Patrol down
pretty pat,” he told himself, as he dropped off his wheel at the
junction of the two roads to await the arrival of his friends, both of
whom wore the well-known khaki uniforms of the scouts, just as the lone
rider did.
A minute later and they, too, dismounted, one gracefully, and the other
with the awkwardness that usually accompanies the heavy-weight boy. Both
of them were apparently pleased at having run across their comrade at
just that particular time.
“Hello! Hugh!” called out the stout boy, “we stopped in at your house,
and they told us you’d gone out to Farmer Benton’s on an errand for your
mother. So Arthur said we might run across you heading for home, which
we sure have done.”
“That’s right, Chief,” added the more slender lad who had been called
Arthur. “We want you to come along with us and pass judgment on my
contraption of a wireless outfit that I’ve rigged out up on Cedar Hill.
I finished the work yesterday morning, and meant to get some of you
fellows up there in the afternoon, but things kept on happening over at
our house one after the other, till it was too late to bother. You’ll go
along, I hope, Chief?”
These three lads were all members of the well-known Wolf Patrol of the
local troop of Boy Scouts. They had been chiefly instrumental in
starting the popular movement in town; and had passed through many
rather remarkable scenes in common, most of which have been described at
length in previous stories of the Series.
Hugh Hardin had early been made the patrol leader, and when the
assistant scout master of the troop had lately been compelled to resign,
Hugh, as the most popular fellow among the scouts, had been elected to
take his place. It is necessary that the boy who would take upon himself
the responsibility of being an assistant scout master should above all
be a first-class scout; secondly, he must be elected to the office by
his mates; and last of all be recommended by the chief scout officers of
that district. Only when these conditions have been met will the coveted
certificate be sent out from Boy Scout Headquarters in New York City.
Hugh had received approval some weeks before, and a few of the boys had
come to calling him “Chief” when off by themselves for a good time. Of
course, when the regular scout master, Lieutenant Denmead, a retired
United States army officer, was along, Hugh would expect to be treated
with the same courtesy that was extended to that gentleman, and insist
upon the usual scout salute at meeting.
Billy Worth had always been a great admirer and chum of Hugh. He
believed the other to be the best all-round boy in that whole country.
Consequently he had seemed more concerned than Hugh himself when Alec
Sands, the son of the rich railroad magnate, and in many ways a spoiled
boy, had on various occasions tried to get the better of Hugh. Alec was
the leader of the wideawake Otter Patrol, a clever scout, and with a
small following of his own; but he was none too popular among the
members of the Fox and Hawk patrols. This had accounted for his failure
to be elected to the office of assistant scout master at the time he and
Hugh locked horns while running for the position.
Arthur Cameron had been the last one to join the Wolf Patrol, completing
its roster of eight members, and for some time he had been called the
“tenderfoot.” Hugh, however, managed to arouse his interest in the
wonderful secrets of Nature a scout who keeps his eyes and ears wide
open may learn, especially when in the woods. From that day on Arthur
had striven to perfect himself in the knowledge of those things which a
boy must know in order to climb the ladder of scout preferment.
Arthur had after a while become a second-class scout, and only at the
last meeting of the troop he had been listed in the proud rank of those
who were entitled to wear the full official badge, denoting that they
were in the first division. The Wolf Patrol now had no tenderfoot and
only three second-class scouts. Hugh hoped that in due time even these
laggards would arouse themselves and show ambition to pluck the fruit
from the tree of knowledge that was within such easy reach.
When Arthur made his appeal, Hugh looked a little thoughtful; the other
boys at the same time showed signs of more or less eagerness. Hugh’s
opinion was worth considerable to Arthur. While perhaps the patrol
leader did not know half as much about the intricate details connected
with a wireless outfit as Arthur himself, at the same time he could
always grasp things in a broad way, and make valuable suggestions that
others might profit by.
“Well, I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t turn around and take a
little spin up there with you boys,” Hugh announced, presently. “I’ve
done the errand for my mother, and have one of Mrs. Benton’s good yeast
cakes in my pocket. She wants my mother to try a loaf of her morning’s
baking. It’s tied to the handle bars of my wheel. But there’s no need of
my hurrying back home because mother doesn’t mean to use the yeast till
to-morrow, anyhow. All right, Arthur, I’ll go along. I’m mighty much
interested in this scheme of yours. Perhaps after all, if the wireless
works, and we get in touch with you while along the coast, you’ll have
nearly as much fun staying home here as the lucky scouts who accompany
the Naval Reserve on their maneuvering cruise aboard the scout cruiser,
_Vixen_.”
“Glad to hear you say so, Hugh,” said the other, flushing with pleasure.
“I was away down in the dumps when I found that I hadn’t a look-in on
that trip. It was Billy here who asked why I didn’t finish that wireless
I’d started up on the top of Cedar Hill. He said what was the harm in my
trying to pick up messages you fellows would send out from time to time
while aboard the scout cruiser, practicing all sorts of things, just as
though there was a regular war on between the United States and some
foreign power, Japan for instance. And now she’s ready for business.
Let’s be off. If you say my outfit works fairly decent I’ll be feeling
fifty per cent. better. It’s awful to see my chums going away on such a
picnic, while I have to stay home.”
“Huh!” grunted Billy, as he threw a plump leg over his saddle and
prepared to begin pedaling, “what about poor me? I came in _third_ on
the list when only two in a patrol could go. Just missed being a favored
son by a hair’s breadth. I nearly swooned when I saw what a narrow
escape I’d had from getting to go on the dandiest trip that ever came
down the pike. I’m getting as thin as a rail peeving about my hard luck.
By the time you fellows come back, Hugh, I’ll be fit to enter a freak
museum under the name of a Living Skeleton.”
“Like fun you will,” jeered Arthur, who knew Billy like a book. “I
notice that you’re just as fond of eating and sleeping as ever. No
fellow who can do the stunts along those lines that you’re capable of is
going to lose flesh. Don’t ever worry about Billy, Hugh. He may feel bad
about not going, but all the same, mark my words, he’ll have a good time
at home. He always carries the sunshine with him.”
And indeed that was about the truth, for Billy could joke and make merry
when many of his mates were pulling long faces over the troubles that
pressed thick and fast upon the patrol. It was his nature to be happy
and jolly; he could not help radiating sunshine all the time.
They sped along the road, gradually getting to where the woods came down
on either side, and elevations could be seen close by. The particular
place which the amateur wireless operator had chosen as the site for his
exploits in constructing his masts and aerials was known as Cedar Hill.
It chanced to be a bit of the extensive property which the Camerons
owned up in this region; which possibly was one reason Arthur had chosen
it. He could lop off branches from such trees as he wanted to use
without danger of being taken to task by some irate farmer, who might
seriously object to destruction of valuable cedars.
There was quite a dense woods leading up to the crown of the hill and
the boys would of course have to abandon their wheels down by the road.
“I guess I’d better take this precious home-made loaf of bread along
with me,” Hugh said as they thrust their bicycles in among the bushes
near by. “It’s got such a fine smell of baking about it that some
wandering hog might find it out. Wouldn’t I be mad clear through to get
back here and find it gone!”
“Say, that does go right to the spot,” remarked Billy as he leaned over
to sniff at the paper-covered package. “If we should happen to get lost
now, like the babes in the wood, why that same bully loaf’d keep us from
starving to death. Any danger of your losing the trail, Arthur?”
“Well, I’ve been up here so often that I’ve marked it pretty well,”
replied the other laughingly. “Suppose you lead the way, Billy, while I
talk with the Chief.”
“Sure I will,” Billy sang out cheerfully. “Always willing to be a
victim. Anything to oblige, boys. ‘Walk this way,’ please, as the
bow-legged salesman said to the haughty lady, before he started to show
her through the store. What impertinence! I should say you had worn a
plain trail, Arthur. A greenhorn could follow it in and out, past logs,
and around holes. You had your Injun woodcraft down fine when you laid
this out.”
Unconsciously the two who were engaged in some serious conversation,
lagged more or less, though perhaps it was Billy, anxious to reach the
crown of Cedar Hill, who displayed an unwonted animation in ascending
the rather steep rise, and see what the final result of the other
scout’s labors had been.
Once or twice Hugh—glancing up—saw that Billy had passed from sight,
though he could still be heard clambering through the brush beyond.
Occasionally some exclamation told that he might have clumsily stumbled
over a root or a clinging vine. They were all of two-thirds of the way
up when there came a sudden shriek from Billy that made the other boys
stop short and look startled. Billy, however, was so prone to play
practical jokes that no one knew how to take him. He could be plainly
heard tearing headlong down the face of the wooded hill, and in a few
seconds came panting back, his usually florid face white with sudden
fear.
“What ails you, Billy?” demanded Hugh, puzzled to account for his
actions.
“Seen a garter snake, did you, Billy?” jeered Arthur. “Oh! plenty of
that kind around here, but they can’t hurt you. Thought it was a
rattler, now, I bet you?”
“It’s a b-e-a-r—a great big black bear ’bout ten feet tall, and standin’
on his hind legs awaitin’ to hug a feller to death!” came from the white
lips of the scout who had led the van of the trail followers.