A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED.
"Are you sure that chain will hold, Smithy?" asked the still nervous
Step-hen, when some of the noise and enthusiasm had died away, so that
the scouts could act like reasonable human beings again.
They had dodged into the tents, and appeared wrapped in their various
blankets; so that as they walked to and fro they resembled so many
solemn Indian braves.
"No question about it," returned the other, in whose cheeks a splash of
color had come, while his eyes were sparkling with satisfaction over the
receipt of honors such as any Boy Scout should be proud to deserve of
his fellows.
"Hey! ain't you goin' to help me out of this?" called Bumpus just then.
"Well, would you ever, if he ain't sticking there under that tent, too
lazy to help himself crawl out again," remarked Step-hen; possibly
wondering whether this might not be a good opportunity for him to sneak
off with that knapsack belonging to Bumpus, so that he could secure the
compass he was positive the fat boy was hiding from him.
"Yes, I _am_ stuck here, and so tight I just can't hardly breathe,"
complained the prisoner. "Somebody go inside, and give me a shove. If
that don't do the business, then another of these here pegs has got to
be lifted, that's all."
Allan obliged the other with a helping hand, and Bumpus was soon able to
don his blanket like the rest. Sleep had been banished for the time
being, by this remarkable happening. The boys began to speculate as to
what they should do with the bear, now that they had him tied up.
"It's sure a white elephant we've got on our hands," laughed Thad. "We
don't dare let him loose; and if we keep him here long, he'll eat us out
of house and home."
At that Giraffe groaned most dismally. If there was anything he hated to
see it was good food being tossed to the beasts.
"Our first camp-fire brought us bad luck, fellows!" he complained.
"Oh! I don't know," remarked Thad. "It gave us a run for the money; and
chances are, we'll never get over laughing at the funny things that
happened. Then besides think what it did for Smithy! After what he did I
guess there isn't a scout who will ever taunt him about being a coward."
"No, Smithy certainly made good this night; and I pass him up away
ahead of me on the roll. He deserves a merit badge, suh, for his true
grit," was what the generous Southern lad declared firmly.
"Hear! hear! we'll put in an application to Headquarters for a badge to
be given to our comrade Smithy for saving our bacon!" cried Davy Jones.
"Well," declared Giraffe, "it might have been our bacon, in fact;
because I saw him sniffing in the direction of the tent where it happens
to be lying. A fine lot of scouts we'd be, camped away up here, far from
our base of supplies, and to run out of bacon the first thing. What's a
breakfast without coffee and bacon; tell me that?"
But apparently none of the others were so much given to thinking about
the delights of eating as Giraffe, for nobody answered his question.
Thad had pulled Allan aside.
"What did I tell you about that boy?" he whispered, as he watched the
emotions that flitted across the now flushed face of the proud Smithy,
receiving the homage of his fellow scouts.
"Well, you were right, that's all; he did have the pluck as you said,
and he showed it too. I never saw a better piece of grit, never," was
the reply the Maine boy gave to the question.
"His mother and aunts may have done their level best to make a sissy out
of him; and we always believed they had come mighty near doing it too;
but I tell you, Allan, I just feel sure that his father or grandfather
must have been a brave soldier in their day. There's warrior blood in
Smithy's veins, in spite of his pale face, and his girlish ways."
"Oh! it won't take long for him to get rid of all those things," said
the other, confidently. "Already we've seen him accept that tattered old
pair of pajamas from Davy Jones; either of us might have hesitated to
put 'em on, because of the laugh they'd raise. I think Davy only fetched
them along to get a rise from the boys. Smithy is all right, Thad. Given
a few months with us, and his mother won't know her darling angelic
little boy."
"Say, Thad," sang out Step-hen just then; "what d'ye reckon could have
happened to the fellers that own the bear? We've been talking it over,
and no two think alike. Some say they got tired feeding the beast, and
turned him loose on the community, to browse off poor scouts, camping
out for the first time. Then others got the notion that p'raps some
hobos might have stopped the show foreigners, and took their money,
letting the bear shuffle off by himself."
"We'll just have to take it out in guessing, and let it go at that," was
the reply Thad made. "You see, we haven't anything to go by. The bear
wasn't carrying any message fastened to his collar, or anything of the
sort that I could see."
"Now you're joking, Thad; the only message he had about him was a hungry
one, and it showed on his face and in the way he begged," Bob White
remarked.
"But, oh! dear me, don't I hope then that the two foreign chaps are hot
on the trail of their lost performing pet; and will show up here bright
and early to-morrow morning; for just think what an immense stack of
precious grub that bear can put away inside of forty-eight hours."
Nobody but Giraffe could have had a thought along these lines.
"Well, he's tired as all get-out now, it seems," said Step-hen; "for
there he's lying down like he meant to go to sleep in the shadow of that
tree. Makes himself right at home, I must say. I reckon he likes us,
fellows."
"Please don't say that, Step-hen; it makes me nervous," remarked Bumpus,
wrapping his blanket around him after the way an ancient Roman might his
toga, as if, in spite of its warmth, he had started shivering again, as
the significant words of Step-hen awakened unpleasant thoughts in his
now active mind.
"But how about appointing a sentry to stay on guard during the night?"
suggested Giraffe, turning to the scout-master.
"What for?" asked Thad, winking at Allan.
"To watch that he don't get loose, and spread himself at our expense,"
the other explained. "Why, if that bear overfed, and killed himself,
those foreign men'd be just awful mad, fellows. I wouldn't be surprised
now, if they tried to make us pay a big sum for letting the old sinner
feed on our rich truck. Sometimes these educated animals are worth a
heap."
"Oh! you c'n watch all you're a mind to, Giraffe," jeered Step-hen; "the
rest of us want some sleep. Be sure and shoo him away if he does break
loose, and try to wreck our cooking department. I'm going to hunt for a
soft spot right now inside this tent. Don't anybody dare to wake me up
before the sun shows again."
With that he started to crawl under the flap of the tent. His action was
the signal for a general disappearance, as the boys remembered again,
now that the excitement was a thing of the past, that they were both
tired and sleepy.
Thad was the last in sight. He wanted to stroll over in the direction of
the uninvited guest; and if the bear remained quiet, he meant to examine
for himself just how securely Smithy had made the chain.
No one could question his intentions; but then at the time Smithy was
worked up to a degree that might excuse some bungling.
The bear was lying down. He raised his head and made that queer sniffing
sound when Thad approached, as though possibly anticipating another
feed. Thad spoke to the beast in a low, soothing tone, as he used his
fingers to ascertain just how the end of the chain was fastened.
Smithy had done his work in a business-like way, in spite of trembling
hands. There was a little metal bar which was intended to slip through
an extra strong ring, that in turn was connected with one of the links.
This being done the bear would be held securely, unless through some
accident the ring and bar parted company, which might not happen once in
a year's time.
So Thad, quite satisfied, left the shady tree under which the prisoner
had stretched his hairy form, and returned to the vicinity of the fire.
Here he busied himself for a little while, fixing things so that there
would be no necessity for any one attending the camp-fire during several
hours at least; indeed, the big back log would doubtless last until
morning, smouldering hour after hour.
Giving one last look around, and quite satisfied with the arrangement of
this, the first camp of the newly organized Silver Fox Patrol of
Cranford Troop of Boy Scouts, Thad finally followed the example of his
chums, crawling under the flap of the tent, which he left up for
ventilation.
He found three fellows apparently already far gone in sleep, if he could
judge from their steady and heavy breathing.
So Thad, chuckling to himself as some humorous thought flitted through
his mind, settled down to join them in dreamland. He knew no reason why
he should deny himself the rest he sorely needed. There was no danger
hovering over the camp that he was aware of; the bear was securely
fastened, and apparently content to take up regular lodgings again with
human companions; and the fire could not communicate to any dry brush or
grass, so as to cause an alarm.
And on this account Thad gave himself up to the pleasure of securing his
full measure of sleep, intending to awaken inside of, say three hours,
when he could creep softly out, to throw a fresh log on the camp-fire,
without disturbing any one.
The last sounds he remembered hearing consisted of a crackling of the
flames as they seized upon a particularly fine piece of fuel; and the
croaking of some bullfrogs along the shore of the lake. Thad lazily made
up his mind to try and secure the hind legs of a few of these big green
"mossbacks," as he called them; for he knew from experience what a
dainty meal they would make, fried with some salt pork, being equal to
any tender spring chicken he knew of.
Then he slept, perhaps for some hours, Thad could not tell; when he was
aroused by the greatest kind of shouting from somewhere near by. He sat
up instantly, his senses on the alert, listening to locate the
disturbance, and get some sort of line on its nature.