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BOY SCOUTS ON A LONG HIKE
or
To the Rescue in the Black Water Swamps
By
Archibald Lee Fletcher
Chicago
M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 1913
M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
CHICAGO
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I--THE BOYS OF THE BEAVER PATROL 7
II--HELPING NOODLES 16
III--THE GENTLE COW 26
IV--IN ALABAMA CAMP 35
V--A HELPING HAND 44
VI--THE HOME-COMING OF JO DAVIES 53
VII--INNOCENT OR GUILTY? 62
VIII--"WELL, OF ALL THINGS!" 71
IX--THE RUNAWAY BALLOON 81
X--DUTY ABOVE ALL THINGS 90
XI--THE TRAIL IN THE SWAMP 99
XII--WHERE NO FOOT HAS EVER TROD 108
XIII--THE OASIS IN THE SWAMP 117
XIV--JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME 126
XV--ON THE HOME-STRETCH 135
XVI--"WELL DONE, BEAVER PATROL!" 146
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BOY SCOUTS ON A LONG HIKE
Or, To the Rescue in the Black Water Swamps
CHAPTER I
THE BOYS OF THE BEAVER PATROL
"They all think, fellows, that the Beaver Patrol can't do it!"
"We'll show 'em how we've climbed up out of the tenderfoot class; hey,
boys?"
"Just watch our smoke, that's all. Why, it's only a measly little
twenty-five miles per day, and what d'ye think?"
"Sure Seth, and what's that to a husky lot of Boy Scouts, who've been
through the mill, and wear merit badges all around? Huh! consider it as
good as done right now!"
Half a dozen boys who wore khaki uniforms, were chattering like so many
magpies as they stood in a little group on an elevation overlooking the
bustling Indiana town of Beverly.
Apparently they must have been practicing some of the many clever things
Boy Scouts delight to learn, for several of the number carried signal
flags; two had pieces of a broken looking-glass in their possession;
while the tall lad, Seth Carpenter, had a rather sadly stained blanket
coiled soldier fashion about his person, that gave off a scent of smoke,
proving that he must have used it in communicating with distant
comrades, by means of the smoke code of signals.
Besides Seth there were in the group Jotham Hale, Eben Newcomb, Andy
Mullane, Fritz Hendricks, and a merry, red-faced boy who, because of his
German extraction, went by the name of "Noodles Krafft."
The reader who has not made the acquaintance of these wide-awake scouts
in previous volumes of this Series will naturally want to know something
about them, and hence it might be wise to introduce the members of the
Beaver Patrol right here.
Eben was the official bugler of Beverly Troop. He had been made to take
this office much against his will, and for a long time had the greatest
difficulty in getting the "hang" of his instrument, so that his comrades
guyed him most unmercifully over the strange medleys he used to bring
forth when meaning to sound the various "calls." But of late Eben seemed
to have mastered his silver-plated bugle, and was really doing very
well, with an occasional lapse excepted.
Andy was a Kentucky boy, but outside of a little extra touch of pride,
and a very keen sense of his own honor, you would never know it.
Seth was the champion signal sender, and delighted to study up
everything he could discover concerning this fascinating subject.
Fritz, on his part, chose to make an especial study of woodcraft, and
was forever hunting for "signs," and talking of the amazing things which
the old-time Indians used to accomplish along this line.
As for good-natured Noodles, if he had any specialty at all, it lay in
the art of cooking. When the boys were in camp they looked to him to
supply all sorts of meals that fairly made their mouths water with
eagerness to begin operations long before the bugle of Eben sounded the
"assembly."
Last of all the group, was Jotham Hale, a rather quiet boy, with an
engaging face, and clear eyes. Jotham's mother was a Quaker, or at least
she came from the peace-loving Friends stock; and the lad had been early
taught that he must never engage in fights except as a very last resort,
and then to save some smaller fellow from being bullied.
On one occasion, which no one in Beverly would ever forget, Jotham had
proven that deep down in his heart he possessed true courage, and grit.
He had faced a big mad dog, with only a baseball bat in his hands, and
wound up the beast's career right on the main street of the town, while
everybody was fleeing in abject terror from contact with the animal.
Because in so doing Jotham had really saved an old and nearly blind
veteran soldier from being bitten by the terrible brute, he had been
adjudged worthy to wear the beautiful silver merit badge which is sent
occasionally from Boy Scout Headquarters to those members of the
organization who have saved life at great peril to themselves.
But Jotham was not the only one who proudly sported a badge. In fact,
every one of the eight members of the Beaver Patrol wore a bronze medal
on the left side of his khaki jacket. This had come to them because of
certain services which the patrol had rendered at the time a child had
been carried away by a crazy woman, and was found, later on, through the
medium of their knowledge of woodcraft.
Of course there were two more boys connected with the patrol, who did
not happen to be present at the time we find them resting on their way
home after a rather strenuous afternoon in the open.
These were Paul Prentice, the patrol leader, and who served as acting
scout master when Mr. Alexander was unable to accompany them; and "Babe"
Adams, the newest recruit, a tenderfoot who was bent on learning
everything connected with the game.
They had gone home a little earlier than the rest, for reasons that had
no connection with the afternoon's sport, each of them having a pressing
engagement that could not be broken. "Babe" had been nick-named in the
spirit of contrariness that often marks the ways of boys; for he was an
unusually tall, thin fellow; and so far as any one knew, had never
shirked trouble, so that he could not be called timid in the least.
"No use hurrying, fellows," declared Seth, as he flung himself down on a
log that happened to be lying near the edge of a little precipice,
marking the abrupt end of the shelf which they had been following, so
that to descend further the scouts must pass around, and pick their way
down the hillside.
"That's so," added Jotham, following suit, and taking great care not to
knock his precious bugle in the least when making the shift; "for one,
I'm dead tired after such a hard afternoon. But all the same, I want
you to know that I'm in apple-pie condition for that long hike, or will
be, after a night's rest."
"What d'ye suppose made Mr. Sargeant offer a prize if the Beaver Patrol
could walk to Warwick by one road, and back along another, a distance of
just an even hundred miles, between sunrise of four days?" and Fritz
looked around at his five comrades as though inviting suggestions.
"Because he's fond of boys, I reckon," remarked Andy. "They tell me he
lost two splendid little fellows, one by drowning, and the other through
being lost in the forest; and when he learned what sort of things the
scouts practice, he said he was in favor of encouraging them to the
limit."
"Well, we want to get busy, and show Mr. Sargeant that we're going to
give him a run for his money," said Seth.
"We've all seen the cup in the window of the jewelers in town, and it
sure is a beauty, and no mistake," added Jotham.
"Don't anybody allow himself to think we can't cover that hundred miles
inside the time limit. You know how Paul keeps telling us that
confidence is more'n half the battle," Fritz went on to say.
"You pet we want dot gup, undt we're yust bound to get der same,"
observed Noodles, who could talk quite as well as any of his mates, but
who liked to pretend every now and then, that he could only express
himself in "broken English," partly because it pleased him and at the
same time amused his mates.
"We're right glad to hear you say that, Noodles," declared Seth, with a
wink in the direction of the others; "because some of us have been
afraid the hike might be too much for you, and Eben."
"Now, there you go again, Seth," complained the bugler, "always
imagining that because I seldom blow my own horn----" but he got no
further than this, for there broke out a shout, from the rest of the
boys.
"That's where you struck it right, Eben!" cried Seth, "because in the
old days you seldom did blow your own horn; but I notice that you're
improving right along now, and we have hopes of making a champion bugler
out of you yet."
"Of course that was just a slip; but let it pass," remarked Eben,
grinning in spite of the fact that the joke was on him. "What I meant to
say was that because I don't go around boasting about the great things
I'm going to do, please look back on my record, and see if I haven't got
there every time."
"Sure you have," admitted Seth, "and we give you credit for bull-dog
stubbornness, to beat the band. Other fellows would have thrown the
bugle into the bushes, and called quits; but you kept right along
splitting our ears with all them awful sounds you called music. And say,
if you can show the same kind of grit on this long hike we're going to
try, there ain't any doubt but what we'll win out."
"Thank you, Seth; you're a queer fish sometimes, but your heart's all
right, underneath the trash," observed Eben, sweetly; and when he talked
like that he always put a stop to the other's teasing.
"How about you, Noodles; d'ye think you're good for such a tough walk?"
asked Fritz, turning suddenly on the red-faced, stout boy, who was
moving uneasily about, as though restless.
"Meppy you don't know dot me, I haf peen practice on der quiet dis long
time, so as to surbrize you all," came the proud reply. "Feel dot
muscle, Seth, undt tell me if you think idt could pe peat. Gymnastics I
haf take, py shiminy, till all der while I dream of chinning mineself,
hanging py one toe, undt all der rest. Meppy you vill surbrised pe yet.
Holdt on, don't say nuttings, put wait!"
He put on such a mysterious air that some of the boys laughed; but
Noodles only smiled broadly, nodded his head, and made a gesture with
his hand that gave them to understand he was ready and willing to let
time vindicate his reputation.
"Hadn't we better be moving on?" remarked Andy.
"Yes, the sun's getting pretty low in the west, and that means it must
be near supper time," said Fritz, who was the possessor of a pretty
brisk appetite all the time.
"Oh! what's the use of hurrying?" Seth went on to say, shifting his
position on the log, and acting as though quite content to remain an
unlimited length of time. "It won't take us ten minutes to get there,
once we start; fifteen at the most. And I like to walk in just when the
stuff is being put on the table. It saves a heap of waiting, you know."
"That's what it does," Eben echoed. "Because, if there's anything I hate
to do, it's hanging around while they're finishing getting grub ready."
"Here, quit walking all over me, Noodles!" called out Fritz, who had
coiled his rather long legs under him as well as he could, while
squatting there on the ground.
"I haf nodt der time to do all dot," remarked the German-American boy,
calmly, "idt would pe too pig a chob. Oh! excuse me off you blease,
Fritz; dot was an accident, I gif you my word."
"Well, don't stumble across me again, that's all," grumbled the other,
watching Noodles suspiciously, and ready to catch him at his tricks by
suddenly thrusting out a foot, and tripping him up--for Noodles was so
fat and clumsy that when he took a "header" he always afforded more or
less amusement for the crowd.
It was not often that Noodles displayed a desire to play tricks or joke,
which fact made his present activity all the more remarkable; in fact he
was developing a number of new traits that kept his chums guessing; and
was far from being the dull-witted lad they had formerly looked upon as
the butt of all manner of practical pranks.
While the scouts continued to chat, and exchange laughing remarks upon
a variety of subjects, Noodles kept moving restlessly about. Fritz felt
pretty sure that the other was only waiting for a good chance to pretend
to stumble over his legs again, and while he pretended to be entering
heartily into the rattling fire of conversation, he was secretly keeping
an eye on the stout scout.
Just as he anticipated, Noodles, as though discovering his chance,
lurched heavily toward him. Fritz, boylike, instantly threw out a foot,
intending to simply trip him up, and give the other a taste of his own
medicine.
Well, Noodles tripped handsomely, and went sprawling headlong in a
ludicrous manner; but being so round and clumsy he rather overdid the
matter; for instead of simply rolling there on the ground, he kept on
scrambling, hands and legs shooting out every-which-way; and to the
astonishment and dismay of his comrades, Noodles vanished over the edge
of the little precipice, close to which the scouts had made their
temporary halt while on the way home!