SCOUT TACTICS.
Hugh had known Billy Worth to be addicted to playing practical jokes on
many occasions, but he was really puzzled to guess the truth when the
other so loudly declared he had met with a bear on the trail above.
There were a number of small wild animals still to be found in that
section of the country. Hugh himself had met with a ferocious wildcat on
one of the camping trips of the troop up at Pioneer Lake, but such a
thing as a black bear had not been seen by any one for many years.
Billy was certainly not playing a part, Hugh quickly decided. The patrol
leader had thrown out an arm, so as to block the passage and prevent
Billy from continuing his mad flight, for he gave evidences of being
inclined that way. He kept looking back along the hill trail as though
fully anticipating seeing a huge hairy monster suddenly loom up. He
stood ready to break away and once more dash down toward the road to the
place where the bicycles had been left.
Arthur, though not free from a touch of panic himself, began to suspect
that it was all a humbug. He turned on Billy and scornfully demanded:
“Show us your old bear, can’t you? March him up and let’s look him in
the eye! I reckon that you’re trying to rattle your boon companions,
that’s what you’re up to, Billy Worth. It don’t go, and you might as
well call it off.”
Billy began to get a grip on himself, for there is nothing like derision
to bring a boy to his proper senses. He straightened up, and a tinge of
color came back into his plump cheeks as he retorted:
“If you don’t believe me—let’s see you go right along up there, that’s
all! Let me tell you this, Arthur Cameron, if you’ll agree to walk
straight along this same trail right up to your old wireless fixing on
top of Cedar Hill, I’ll—yes, I’ll agree to _give_ you that hunting knife
of mine you asked me to trade for your spare compass. Get that, do you?
And I’m safe in making the offer, too, because I know you’ll get the
rattles as bad as I did just as soon as you set eyes on that terrible
monster!”
Hugh was still studying the other. He wondered what it could have been
that Billy had really seen to alarm him so much. As a rule the other
scout was not given to wild imaginings like several other boys connected
with the troop whom Hugh knew very well. On the contrary Billy had
generally shown a steadiness much to his credit; he was matter-of-fact
and not often given to romancing.
“This thing has gone far enough, Billy,” he said sternly.
“I know you don’t believe what I say, Chief,” complained the other, “but
I’m going to raise my hand, and on the honor of a scout say once more
that I did really and truly see a bear!”
“Well, let it go at that,” said Hugh. “We’ll believe that you thought
you saw some sort of thing that _looked like a bear_. I’ve known fellows
who saw ghosts and believed it as much as they could anything, till it
was proven that the moving white object was a pillow-slip left out on
the clothes line, floating up and down in the soft night air. Sometimes
in the dim woods a stump can look mighty like a big black bear, I’m
told.”
“P’raps that’s all true enough, Hugh,” persisted the other, “but when
you see it rear up on its hind legs, and start at you—that looks
different, don’t it?” demanded the other.
“Oh! then it moved, did it? actually got up on its hind legs and wanted
to give you the high sign?” jeered Arthur still unconvinced. “Well,
that’s what you get for belonging to the Wolf Patrol. This wonderful
bear thought you might be his own cousin. He meant to shake hands with
you, Billy.”
Billy shrugged his broad shoulders. Though still looking a little
anxious, he was no longer white in the face. This scepticism on the part
of Arthur had the good effect of arousing what was combative in his
jolly nature, and putting fresh courage in his boyish heart.
“Well,” he went on to say resolutely, “I can see that you’ll never be
satisfied till you meet up with that bear for yourself, Arthur. So
s’pose you hike out. We’ll follow after you. I dare you to, get that?”
No boy can easily stand being put on his mettle. With quaking heart many
a lad has started into a country churchyard on a dark night or in some
other such reckless venture just because his mates have given him the
“dare.”
Arthur gave a quick look up the trail. So far as he could see, there did
not appear to be anything amiss in that direction. Surely if a hungry
bear did lurk near by he would have been apt to show himself ere this.
So Arthur, feeling that he had gone too far now to show the white
feather, threw out his chest, and stepped ahead of the other two.
“All right, you watch me show you up for the biggest fakir going,
Billy,” he remarked with all the firmness he could command. “I’ve passed
up and down along the same trail dozens of times, and if there’d been
such a thing as a bear around—well, wouldn’t I be apt to know it? Guess
I would. Now, I’ve seen a fox once, a little red fox; likewise a skunk
that I gave a wide berth to. There was a rabbit that used to jump out of
the bushes every single day, sometimes giving me a start, if I happened
to be thinking hard and forgot about it. Wonder whether anybody could
make out one of those to be a bear!”
“Oh! go on and climb, that’s all,” chuckled the confident Billy. “You’ll
see if I’ve got magnifiers in my eyes this time.”
“And what if we don’t see your bear?” asked Arthur. He started rather
slowly to mount the trail, keeping a bright lookout ahead, which caution
rather belied his confident way of expressing his disbelief.
“You will, all right,” replied the other from behind Hugh. “Even if he’s
dusted out, can’t we look for his tracks? What’s the use of being scouts
if we aren’t able to tell what the marks of a bear’s paw and claws look
like?”
Arthur did not reply in words. He did cast a quick glance over his
shoulder, however, which may have been simply to make sure his chums
were close at his heels, though Hugh rather suspected the leader to be
desirous of making certain that there was a clear field for flight open
to him in case of necessity. Caution as well as valor is a part of a
scout’s education, and he who is wise will always know of a way for
retreat though scorning to make use of the same.
Billy in the rear was evidently very much in earnest. Hugh could hear
him breathing hard, as if his excitement were returning in full force
the closer they drew to the place where he had met his recent alarming
adventure.
Although he could not believe it possible that Billy had actually seen
such a thing as a bear, still Hugh confessed to feeling considerable
curiosity himself in the matter. He had already made up his mind that it
would turn out to be some old stump that stood in a rather dark and
gloomy spot. Perhaps a squirrel had run up the stump, frightened by the
sudden appearance of the boy, and this movement, coupled with the queer
appearance of the remnant of a tree, had given Billy his scare.
Well, they would soon know what it might have been. Arthur was steadily
advancing up the hillside, none too swiftly it must be confessed. He had
apparently remembered all he had ever learned about the habits of a real
scout when passing through lonely woods where dangers were apt to lurk,
for it could be seen that he was turning his head to the right and to
the left from time to time, as if determined that nothing should escape
his observation.
“Listen! didn’t you hear something that sounded like a whine?” asked
Billy from his position of safety in the rear.
It might have been just like him to try and add to the nervousness of
the scout who led the van, but Hugh knew that this was not so; he too
had caught some sort of odd sound at the same time that the other spoke
so thrillingly. As for Arthur, he stopped short.
“What could that have been, Hugh?” he asked anxiously, while the
satisfied Billy actually began to chuckle with glee at seeing the
doubting one begin to show signs of wavering.
“I couldn’t say, Arthur,” replied the scout master promptly. “Some sort
of animal made it. I should think even a fox could bark loud enough for
that, or a weasel snarl because he was bothered while feeding. Want me
to lead off, Arthur?”
Perhaps the boy would have been glad of the chance to say yes, but
knowing how Billy would exult at his sudden change of heart he shut his
teeth hard together and merely replied:
“Well, I should say not, Hugh. I don’t make out to be the bravest scout
in the troop in the Wolf Patrol, but I hope I am not ready to lie down
and crawl just because I happen to hear a silly old whine. Chances are
it’s some dog that’s been digging out a rabbit burrow up here and wants
to let us know he’s on deck. Come on, both of you, and let’s see what’s
up.”
With that Arthur resumed his upward progress, covering foot after foot,
continuing his careful survey ahead. Hugh was really proud of the way
the late “tenderfoot” managed to carry on the lead so successfully; even
under the exciting conditions the scout master could pay attention to
such things, since they concerned his duties as instructor.
“Just a little further, Arthur, and you’ll turn that sharp bend,” almost
whispered Billy, pressing up against Hugh in his intense eagerness to
see what would happen. “Oh! there was that whine again, Hugh! Mebbe
you’ll believe me after a bit. Mebbe you’ll give me credit for havin’
eyes in my head! Steady now, old wireless! A few more steps, and you’re
bound to strike something or I’ll eat my hat!”
This sort of talk was well calculated to increase the manifest
nervousness of Arthur, but he was at least game to the backbone, not
dreaming of showing the white feather, the thing above all others that
any ordinary boy dreads to do.
Hugh pressed a little closer to the leader. He wanted to be on hand for
what was going to happen, no matter whether this turned out to be along
tragic or comical lines. And besides, Arthur was visibly trembling, as
though he needed some strong arm to back him up. If he felt Hugh
touching his elbow it would doubtless afford him more or less comfort.
Then Arthur, with set jaws, summoning all his resolution to the fore,
made the last step needed to take him around that bend in the trail
where the tall bushes seemed to shut out what lay beyond.
No sooner had he done so than he seemed to be changed into stone, for he
stood there like a statue carved out of marble, staring at something
that lay just beyond. Billy came pushing up just in time to hear the
pilot of the expedition gasp:
“Look! look, Hugh! Is that really a bear, or am I seeing things I
shouldn’t?”
When the scout master had taken a second look he made a discovery that
seemed to afford him more or less satisfaction, for he immediately
called out:
“It’s a live bear, all right, Arthur. Billy wasn’t dreaming, it seems.
Look closer and you’ll find that the poor thing is tied to that tree
with a rope; and chances are it’s the performing bear I heard was over
at Salem last week!”
At that both of the other boys breathed freely once more. Billy puffed
out his chest, filled with pride because his astonishing declaration had
at least been proven true.