The reply to Mike’s hail was so prompt that he thought it was the echo
of his own voice. He looked in the direction whence the answer came,
and, seeing nothing to account for it, shouted:
“I obsarved ‘Hello!’ and I take it kindly that ye did the same,” and he
added to himself: “Now, Mr. Echo, let me see what ye can do with them
words.”
The response was unexpected and startling. Nothing was heard, but a man
came into sight among the pines and walked with slow, steady step
straight toward the astonished lad, his keen eyes fixed inquiringly upon
the youth, as if uncertain of his nature.
The person was tall, thin, slightly stoop-shouldered and certainly well
past the age of three-score and ten. His straggling hair and abundant
beard, which descended over his chest like a fleecy veil, were as white
as snow. The nose was well formed, inclined to Roman, and his gray eyes
under the shaggy grizzled brows were of piercing intensity. He grasped a
long crooked staff in his right hand, the top rising a foot above his
head, and used the stick for a cane in walking. He wore no hat or
covering of any kind for his crown, but his attire was a suggestion of a
Norfolk coat such as Scout Masters wear. It was buttoned down the front
and closed about the waist by a girdle or belt of the same material,
which was olive-drab cotton cloth, with two pleats before and behind.
Although the garment was well worn it was clean and unfrayed. The
trousers of the same kind of cloth reached to the top of the coarse,
strong shoes. Under the coat was a dark flannel shirt, though it
scarcely showed because of the closed garment and the beard curtain.
“I wonder if he intends to walk over me,” mused Mike, as he met the
steady gaze and held his position; “it looks that way.”
A half dozen paces away, however, the old man abruptly halted, stared
and remained silent. Mike raised his hand and made a military salute.
“With me compliments and best wishes and many of the same.”
“Try that again, young man,” said the stranger in a mellow voice, “you
didn’t do it properly.”
“I did the best I know how,” replied the astonished Mike, “and I was
thinking it couldn’t be much improved upon.”
“None the less it is wrong.”
“If ye’ll be after insthructing me it’s mesilf that will try to do you
justice.”
“Are you not a Boy Scout?”
“Not just yit, though I’m hoping to honor the Scouts by allowing the
same to put my name on their roll.”
“Why then do you wear their uniform?”
“Would ye have me take it off and wear the rigimintals I was born in?
I’d be feared of the scratches from the bushes, though I should like to
be obliging.”
“Are you on your way to the Boy Patrol camp?”
“That’s me distination, as me uncle said whin he looked down at the
ground as he was falling from a balloon.”
“You are walking away from instead of toward it. The Boy Patrols are two
miles to the rear.”
“I don’t wish to drop down on ’em too quick; ye have heard of sudden joy
killing a person and I want to approach ’em slow and grand like, that
they may have time to give me a proper reciption.”
Fearing that his jocosity might not be acceptable, Mike added:
“I may as well own up, me friend, that I’ve lost me way, but before
going thither will ye insthruct me as to how to make the Boy Scout
salute?”
“It is simple; observe; crook your right little finger inward; keep it
down flat by pressing your thumb upon it; hold the other three fingers
upright, palm outward and bring the hand in front of the forehead; try
it.”
With the example before him, Mike had no trouble in making the salute.
“That is right; so long as you wear the uniform of the Boy Scouts, and
since as you say you expect to become one of them, you must use their
method of greeting one another.”
“And now will ye put me under bigger obligations by showing me the exact
coorse to folly to reach the camp of me friends?”
The old man raised his staff from the ground and pointed to the left of
the lad.
“If you will hold to that direction, you will go straight to them.”
“Now that ye have told me I won’t furgit it.”
“All the same you will; you know so little about the woods that you will
be lost before you have gone a fourth of the distance.”
“How can I do that wid such plain instructions as ye have given me?”
“Were you not directed before you set out for your friends’ camp?”
“But not by such an intilligent gintleman as yersilf.”
The twitching of the beard at the side of the old man’s mouth showed
that he was pleased by the whimsical compliment.
“It is easy to see from your blarney that you were born in Ireland: what
is your name?”
“Mike Murphy; me father, Mr. Patrick Murphy, has charge of Mr. Landon’s
bungalow on Southport Island, where I make me home wid him whin I’m not
living somewhere ilse. ’Twas his boy Alvin that sint fur me to jine the
Boy Patrols on Gosling Lake.”
“I called there yesterday and spent most of the day with them. They are
a fine set of youths and have an admirable Scout Master; I expect soon
to see them again; the troop, as it is called, numbers three Patrols,
that of Mr. Hall, the Scout Master, being the Blazing Arrow.”
“Ye said there were three Patrols in the troop: what are the ithers?”
“The Stag and the Eagle. Now it has occurred to me, Michael, that since
you expect to join the Boy Patrols and know comparatively nothing of
them, it will be wise for you to go to my home, which isn’t far off, and
spend the night with me; I’ll teach you enough, not only to pass a good
examination but to astonish the other Scouts by your knowledge.”
This offer brought out the question that had been in the mind of Mike
for some minutes:
“Ye are very kind and I’m thankful for the invitation, but may I ask who
ye are?”
“That is your right, since you have already introduced yourself. My name
is Elkanah Sisum, more generally called ‘Uncle Elk’; a long time ago a
great sorrow came to me; it drove me into the woods, where I put up a
cabin and have lived for fifteen years; but I have not lost my love for
my fellow men and especially for boys; I can never look upon a youth
like yourself without being awed by the infinite possibilities for good
or evil slumbering in him, and my heart yearns to help all along the
right path.”
“How is it ye know so much about the Boy Scouts of America?”
“Living by myself, I spend a good deal of time in hunting, fishing and
cultivating the little patch of ground on which my cabin stands, but I
find leisure for reading and study. I became interested a year ago in
the accounts of the Boy Scout movement, which owes so much to
Lieutenant-General Sir Robert S. S. Baden-Powell of England. I should be
stupid indeed to pass so many years in the wilderness without learning
woodcraft, campcraft, trailing and the ways of the woods.”
Mike had set his heart on joining his friends that day—for you know he
had been tardy in following directions and Alvin and Chester would be
disturbed over his failure to show up—and the distance was so short
that he could easily traverse it before night. With the confidence of
youth, he felt no fear of losing his way, despite the assertion of Uncle
Elk. But the presentation of the case appealed strongly to him. He had a
natural dread of going into the Boy Patrol camp as the champion
ignoramus of the party. Alvin and Chester would have rare sport with
him, for they knew only too well what he would do had the situations
been reversed. But to stride among them with the proper salute, which he
knew already, and, when subjected to the preliminary examination, to
pass triumphantly would be an achievement which would make his blood
tingle with pride.
What a lucky stroke of fortune it was that in losing his way in the
woods he had met Uncle Elk, whose language showed him to be a man of
culture and qualified to give him the very instruction he needed. The
incident was another illustration of the truth that many a misfortune is
a blessing in disguise.
“I thank ye very kindly,” said Mike, with hardly a moment’s hesitation;
“I shall be glad to spend the night in yer home.”
“Come on then; darkness is not far off and it is quite a walk to my
cabin. I make one condition, Michael.”
“I’m listening.”
“You must bring a good appetite with you; I have no princely fare to
offer, but it is substantial.”
“It would be ongrateful fur me to disapp’int ye, and ye may make sartin
that ye shall not be graived in that respict.”