THE FROG HUNTERS.
"That settles me, I guess!" said Tubby sadly, as he followed Rob into
the shelter of the brush nearby, from which haven of refuge they might
watch to see what chances there were of the big camp, a mile and more
away, being broken up.
"I know what you're thinking about, Tubby," Merritt told him; "that none
of us has had any breakfast, and the outlook for dinner is about as
tough as it could be."
"Yes," admitted the fat scout, "I feel just like kicking myself, because
I didn't think of doing it when I had the chance."
"Doing what?" asked Merritt.
"Getting that good-natured old fellow at the inn to put us up some
lunch," was the explanation Tubby offered. "I guess he'd have done it,
too, because he thought we deserved being taken care of, after hearing
what the wounded Belgian soldiers had to tell about us. Oh! it's a
shame how all my great thoughts come afterward. What's the use of
locking the stable door when the horse has been stolen?"
"Well, cheer up," said Rob, who, of course, had overheard what was being
said; "it may not be a case of starving."
"See here, you don't happen to have a lot of stuff hidden away on your
person, do you, Rob?" gasped Tubby hopefully; and, as the other shook
his head, he continued in a mournful tone, "I thought that would be too
good to be true. But please tell us what you mean by saying it mightn't
be so very serious. Mebbe you know of a henroost nearby, where we might
find a tough old Dominick fowl that had been overlooked by the raider
squads from the camp?"
"If I did I'd tell you, Tubby; but wait a bit, while we watch the camp.
If nothing happens inside of two hours, I've got a sort of scheme to
propose to you both, and I hope it'll meet with your approbation."
"Two hours! Two long, weary hours! Gee!" And, as Tubby said this, he
proceeded to take in some of the slack of his waistband, possibly
meaning to show Rob how terribly he had fallen away of late.
They could see that myriads of men were moving about on the level
stretch of country where the invaders were encamped. Fires were going,
and doubtless those excellent camp ovens, of which so much had been
written, were being used to bake fresh bread for the day. Those Germans
omitted nothing that would provide for the comfort of the enlisted men.
"It looks as though they meant to stay there all day," remarked Rob,
when they had been observing these things for at least a full hour.
"Oh! Rob!" protested Tubby helplessly, as though the information gave
him a severe pain.
"Well, they believe in drilling right up to the minute they go into
battle," was what Merritt remarked; "for there you can see a whole
regiment of them marching in review past the commander, with others
following behind."
"It's a wonderful sight," admitted Rob. "I never saw soldiers keep step,
and seem to be such parts of a machine like that. You'd think they were
moved by some network of wires, like a big automatic engine."
"Oh! look what funny steps that first line is practicing!" cried Tubby.
"Why, they must be only boys, and just playing soldiers. See how they
lift their feet, and go along like a high-stepper of a horse. Ain't that
the limit, now?"
"I tell you what that must be," said Rob, quickly. "I've read about what
they call the 'goose-step.' It's a flinging up of each leg, as the step
is taken, bending the knee, instead of keeping it stiff, like most
soldiers on parade do."
"The silly nonsense!" laughed Tubby. "What would I look like trying that
fancy step? I thought the Kaiser had more sense than that."
"Hold on. Don't condemn a thing before you know what it's meant for,"
said Rob. "There's an object, and a mighty good one, about that step,
even if it does make most people smile when they see it for the first
time."
"Then let's hear what it is, please, Rob."
"As far as I know about it, the object is to strengthen the muscles of
the leg, and give those that are tired from a set position a rest. Don't
you see how that sort of a movement relieves the leg? Try it a few
times, and you'll believe me."
"Have you ever seen the goose-step before, Rob?" asked Merritt.
"Only once, in a moving-picture play of the German maneuvers," he was
told. "It struck me then as ridiculous; but I knew those German military
men had long heads, and would not start a thing like that in a parade
without something big back of it. So, when I got home I tried it a few
times, and then I saw what a splendid relief that throwing forward of
the foot was. There goes another line doing it."
They continued to crouch--there was small possibility of any one
discovering them--and watched all that was going on in the busy camp
beyond.
Not once did any of the soldiers wander away. It was plainly evident
that they were being given no liberties. Rob only hoped that the order
would come for this corps to get on the move, and head to the southwest;
for he did not doubt but they were meaning to go to Ghent, or to some
other place toward the coast.
Several times Tubby was observed to crane his neck and look up toward
the heavens anxiously. The others did not need to be told what those
signs indicated. They knew very well that the fat chum had not become
suddenly interested in astronomy, or expected an eclipse of the sun to
happen. He was merely noting how far along his morning journey the sky
king had traveled, because he could not forget how Rob had set a time
limit on their remaining there.
Two hours he had mentioned as the sum total of their stay; when that
boundary had been reached Rob was going to make some sort of pleasing
proposition. Tubby hoped it would have to do with the procuring of a
certain nourishment, of which all of them certainly stood in great need.
At last Rob gave signs of making a move.
"Now, if you fellows will come back along the road a little ways with
me," he announced with a smile, "I've got something to propose. I only
hope you fall in with my views, for then there's a chance that we'll
have something to eat."
"Oh! you can count on me agreeing with you, Rob!" said Tubby
cheerfully. "No matter whether it's fur, fin, or feather, I think I
could do justice to nearly anything that grows."
"As it happens, it's something that doesn't fly or walk that I have in
my mind," Rob declared rather mysteriously. "The fact is, it hops!"
"Now you have got me worse balled up than ever," protested Tubby, his
brow wrinkled with his endeavor to guess the answer.
"I think I know," volunteered Merritt, grinning amicably.
"What does he mean, then? Please hurry and tell me," pleaded Tubby.
"Frogs, isn't it, Rob?" demanded the other.
"Oh! gingersnaps and popguns! Do I have to come down to choosing between
eating jumpers and starving to death?" complained the fat boy, looking
distressed.
"Well, wait till you get your first taste, that's all," Rob told him.
"If you don't say it beats anything you ever took between your teeth,
I'm mistaken, and that's all there is about it. Why, they're reckoned
one of the fanciest dishes in all the high-class clubs in America, along
with diamond-back terrapin, canvas-back duck, and such things. The only
thing I'm afraid about is that after you get your first taste you'll
want to hog the whole supply."
"But how shall we catch the frogs, and then cook them?" asked Merritt.
"The first ought to be easy," replied Rob, "seeing how plentiful they
are, and how big and tame. I see a dandy piece of wood that would make a
good bow with a piece of stout cord I've got in my pocket. Merritt, get
some of those straight little canes, growing on the edge of the water.
We can make them do for arrows, and, even without feathers, I think I
can hit a big frog with one at ten paces away. It'll be fun as well as a
profitable business. Frog-hunters, get busy now."
"Here's a long pole, Rob. Shall I take it and steal up close enough to
whack a few of the jumpers on the head?" asked Tubby, now entering into
the spirit of the game.
Being given permission, and warned not to make too big a noise, lest he
frighten all the frogs into jumping, he set about his task. After
several failures he finally brought one monstrous greenback frog to
where the others were still working.
"I'll show you how to cut off the saddle, and skin the hind legs," said
Rob.
Tubby did not altogether like this job. The slimy feeling of the frog
rather went against his stomach. Still, after the large hind legs had
been duly skinned, they presented so much the appearance of the white
meat of a spring chicken that Tubby felt encouraged enough to set forth
again.
He had four victims by the time Rob and Merritt pronounced the bow and
arrow part of the business in readiness for work.
They kept at it steadily for an hour and more. Rob found considerable
excitement and profit in his archery. His arrows could not be wholly
depended on, for they were not properly balanced; but the distance was
so short that he made numerous fatal shots.
Merritt, too, had secured another long pole, and joined Tubby in his
share of the frog hunt. It was exciting enough, and with more or less
delicious little thrills connected with it. No doubt the frogs must
have enjoyed it immensely; but then, no one bothered asking what they
thought of such tactics. A boy's hunger _must_ be allayed, and, if there
were only frogs handy, why so much the worse for the "hoppers."
"Whew! Don't you think we've got enough, Rob?" asked Tubby, unable to
stand it any longer.
"What's the score?" asked the archer, as he tossed still another great
big victim toward the spot where the fat scout had been counting the
pile.
"Twenty-one, all told," replied Tubby. "That would mean seven for each.
But how in the world can we cook them? I hope now you don't mean to
tackle them raw? I love raw oysters, but I'd draw the line at frogs. I'm
no cannibal."
"Well, let's find a place deeper in the woods, where we can make a fire
out of selected dry wood that will make so little smoke it can't be
noticed. That's an old Indian trick, you know. Hunters used to practice
it away back in the time of Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton. When they
were in a hostile country they had to be mighty careful about making a
smoke. I've tried it before, and believe I can pick out the right kind
of fuel to use."
While the others were finishing the not very pleasant work of skinning
the numerous frog saddles, Rob busied himself with making the fire in a
secluded neck of the woods. In the midst of jutting stones he soon had a
blaze going. It could not be seen twenty feet away, on account of the
obstructions; and, as the proper kind of wood had been selected, there
was no smoke to mention.
The boys would have given something for their well-remembered frying
pan, just at that time, and some pieces of salt pork with which to
sweeten the dainty morsels which were to constitute their luncheon. They
were true scouts, however, and could make the best of a bad bargain.
"All hunters do not have skillets when they're in the woods," said Rob,
as he took a long splinter he had prepared, thrust it into one of the
saddles, and then, poking the other end into the ground close to the
fire, allowed the meat to get the benefit of the heat. "We must do what
we can in this old-fashioned way. The best sauce, after all, is hunger;
and, from the look on Tubby's face, I reckon he's fairly wild to set his
teeth in the first of the feast."
Pretty soon it was a lively scene, with all those forks having to be
attended to. A tempting odor also began to rise up that made Tubby's
mouth fairly water. He heaved many a sigh, as he waited for Rob to tell
him that the first of his allotment was sufficiently browned to be
devoured.
"Now, let's begin," said Rob finally. "Only look out not to burn your
lips. And, Tubby, take my word for it, you're going to get the treat of
your life!"