The ball game having ended so summarily, the Patrols gathered once more
on the slope in front of the clubhouse to decide what should be done
during the remainder of the forenoon.
“That’s what I call a mystery,” declared the chubby faced Corporal Robe,
alluding to the disappearance of the ball; “I wonder whether any big
bird flying overhead made off with it.”
“The explanation is simple,” said Alvin Landon as if in pity of the
ignorance of the others.
“Well, you are so smart,” remarked the corporal, “suppose you explain
for the benefit of the rest of us.
“Didn’t you observe that I put all my power in that sweep of the bat,
and I caught the ball on the trade mark? Well, it is probably still
sailing through the air and most likely will be found on the outskirts
of Boothbay Harbor or at Christmas Cove.”
“Strange we never thought of that,” commented Robe, as if impressed. “I
had a notion that the ball lodged somewhere among the limbs of the
trees.”
“I never heard of anything like that.”
“Don’t you think there may be several things of which you never heard?”
“Enough of this aimless talk,” broke in the Scout Master; “we have a
visitor.”
There was a general turning of heads toward the lake, where all saw the
cause of the last remark of the Scout Master. A birch canoe had put out
from the eastern shore and was approaching the bungalow at a moderate
speed. In the stern of the craft was seated a man who swung the short
paddle with easy powerful strokes. His face was turned toward the group
of lads.
“I thought Rip Van Winkle lived in the Catskills,” remarked the corporal
in a low voice, whereat all smiled, for the appearance of the stranger
justified the comparison. He was bareheaded and his long hair and beard
were of snowy whiteness. The picture was a striking one, with the
curving prow of the pretty craft pointed straight toward the landing.
The crystalline water was split into a gentle ripple by the bow,
fashioned the same as the stern, and the sparkle of the blade looked as
if he was lifting and tumbling liquid diamonds about for the party to
admire.
You have been introduced to “Uncle Elk,” and do not need any further
description of him. He and Mike Murphy were to meet some hours later not
far away in the woods.
Scout Master Hall and the boys walked down to the edge of the lake to
welcome their caller. They were glad to receive strangers at any time,
and believing the man to be much older than he was, they stood ready to
give him the help he might possibly need. But he required nothing of
that nature.
Uncle Elk seemed to be surveying the group from under his shaggy brows,
but he acted as if he saw them not. With the same regular sweep of the
paddle, he held the boat to its course, gently checking it as the prow
neared land, so that it impinged like a feather against the shingle. He
arose, stepped out, drew the craft farther up the beach and then
astonished the boys and their leader by doing a most unexpected thing.
He straightened his slightly stooping figure, fixed his penetrating eyes
on the Scout Master, and made the Boy Scout salute. So far as his
exuberant beard permitted them to see, he was grave and solemn of
manner.
“Hurrah! he’s one of us!” called Herbert Wood, as led by Hall, all stood
erect and returned the greeting. And almost instantly the old man taught
them precisely how the wolf makes his cry, followed by the “baow,” of
the stag and the “kreece,” of the eagle. Those keen eyes which scorned
all artificial aid, had observed the flags of the three Patrols
displayed along with the emblem of their country above the roof of the
bungalow.
Hall stepped forward and offered his hand, which was clasped by the
venerable man, who showed his pleasure in looking into the faces of so
bright a lot of youths.
“Will you accept me as a Boy Scout?” he asked, the movement at the sides
of his mouth showing he was smiling, while his eyes twinkled and fine
wrinkles appeared at the corners.
“You seem to be one already,” replied the Scout Master.
“I have not been initiated, though I have taken pains to inform myself
about your organization. I have only one misgiving.”
“What is that?”
“I believe you accept no person who is under twelve years of age.”
“If you will give us your word that you have seen that number of years,
I shall be satisfied. What do you say, boys?”
Entering into the spirit of the moment, the lads discussed the question.
Hardly a face showed a smile, and there were grave shakings of heads.
Finally, Leader Chase said:
“We are willing to run the risk.”
“With your permission,” said the visitor, bowing toward Scout Master
Hall, “I shall be glad if you see your way clear to my becoming an
honorary member of your order. My name is Elkanah Sisum, more generally
known as ‘Uncle Elk’; I live by myself a couple of miles inland from the
lake” (indicating the point); “I have a comfortable home; my latchstring
always hangs outside and I shall take it as an honor if you will come
and see me often.”
“I do not recall any rule regarding honorary members of the Boy Scouts,
but I hereby declare you to be such, Uncle Elk,” said Scout Master Hall
with much heartiness.
In obedience to a unanimous impulse every youth made the salute, to
which the old gentleman responded.
“Thanks for the honor, which is appreciated. I have lived in the Maine
woods for a good many years and have hunted from Eagle Lake away up in
the wild north, to this settled section, where not much in the way of
game is left. Perhaps there may be something relating to trees, birds,
fishes and the ways of the woods that I can teach you, though,” he added
with a twinkle of his bright eyes; “boys in these days have so many
advantages that they run away from us old fellows in knowledge. None the
less, you will find that the more you learn the more there is left for
you to learn. Many a boy with a twine and bent pin can beat the best of
you in wooing fish from the water; scores of urchins much younger than
you know more of the woods and its inhabitants than you will learn in
years; I can show you lads who with the bows and arrows made by
themselves will bring down game that you can’t touch with the latest
improved firearms, while as regards trailing through the depths of the
wilderness they can teach you the rudiments.”
“Nothing can be truer than that; the advantages we have are many, but
without brains and application they will do us little good. Your offer
to help us along these paths of knowledge is gratefully accepted. We
shall make frequent calls upon you, with the understanding that you will
often come and see us. We have studied woodcraft a good deal, just
enough to realize, as you have reminded us, how little we know of it. We
need an instructor and we hereby close with your offer without giving
you time to withdraw it.”
Addressing the scouts, the Master said:
“The only matters to be settled are the title that is to go with Uncle
Elk’s office and the size of salary that is to be paid him as
instructor.”
“Suppose you leave the latter question to me,” gravely suggested the old
man.
Scout Master Hall pretended to be undecided and asked his boys
quizzically:
“Is it safe to do that?”
“There doesn’t seem to be any help for it,” replied Patrol Leader Chase.
“Then we may as well make a virtue of necessity; and now as to the
proper title which Uncle Elk is to assume. I am ready for suggestions.”
Uncle Elk and the Scout Master listened with amusement to the proposals
of the boys. All were eagerly interested and nearly every one submitted
at least one proposal. Some of them were overwhelming. Perhaps the most
striking was that of Gordon Calhoun, Scout 5 of Patrol 2. It was
“Lieutenant-General and Supreme Counsellor and Master of the Mysteries
of the Woods.”
Uncle Elk and Scout Master Hall laughed.
“If I were of the African race, that would suit me exactly, but, as it
is, the weight would crush me. Try, boys, to hit upon something simple.”
Calhoun joined in the merriment at his expense and gave up.
Isaac Rothstein, the black-haired, dark-eyed Jewish member of the Stag
Patrol, amid the hush of his comrades said:
“Why not call Uncle Elk ‘Instructor in Woodcraft’?”
“You’ve hit it,” commented the pleased visitor.
“I agree with you,” said the Scout Master, patting the shoulder of the
blushing boy who stood at his side. “The name is simple and expressive
and therefore meets every requirement without paining the modesty of the
gentleman who wears it; and now, Mr. Instructor, may I be permitted to
ask when it will suit your convenience to begin earning your salary?”
Uncle Elk glanced up at the sky and noted the position of the sun.
“It is now a few minutes past eleven; the day is so far along that I
propose to go back to my home and stay there until to-morrow morning.
Nothing unexpected occurring, I shall be here at half-past eight
o’clock. I shall not come in my boat but on foot, prepared to take up my
duties.”
(Scout Master Hall slyly glanced at his watch, while the man was
speaking. The hands showed it was six minutes past eleven.)
“You will remain and take dinner with us.” The Instructor nodded.
“I shall be pleased. Meanwhile, may I witness a drill of your troop?”
The Scout Master blew a sharp blast on his whistle and strolled to the
front of the clubhouse, the Instructor beside him. Facing about, the
former nodded and a pretty exhibition followed. The three patrols
composing the troop, each under the command of its leader, went through
the maneuvers with a precision and unity that were almost perfect.
The troop formed in two ranks, the second covering the intervals between
the scouts in the first rank, the feet turned out at an angle of
forty-five degrees, the body erect, arms hanging easily, fingers
slightly bent, head up and eyes to the front. This is the “Alert”
position. It will be remembered that the boys carried no weapons.
The next command was to “stand at ease.” Each left foot was shifted
eight or ten inches to the left, the weight of the body being thus
equally divided on both feet; the hands were carried behind the back,
one loosely resting on the palm of the other, the grasp being maintained
by the fingers and thumb. Then followed “dressing,” the different
turnings,—right-turn, left-turn, about-turn, and right and left
half-turn.
In the brief pause that occurred at this moment, Instructor Sisum asked
the Scout Master in a voice which all heard:
“What are the rules regarding salutes?”
The Scout Master nodded to Corporal Robe, who with a sly grin passed the
question to Private Harold Hopkins, and he, having no one to whom he
could shift it, promptly replied, accompanying his words with a
practical illustration:
“We have the half salute and the full salute. Scouts use the half salute
when they meet for the first time in the day. The fingers are held as in
the full salute, but the right hand is raised only shoulder high, with
palm to the front.
“For the full salute we raise the hand to the forehead, elbow in line
and nearly square with the shoulder, for one or two seconds.”
“When should this salute be given?” asked the Instructor.
“When a private meets one of his officers, any commissioned officer of
the United States army, or the colors of a regiment when passing the
body at a funeral; on such occasions as the Fourth of July, Flag Day,
Memorial Day; when the Stars and Strips are hoisted, and, if in uniform,
when the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ or ‘My Country’ is played.”
“Which hand should be employed in making the salute?”
“The same rule holds as in the United States army; it must be done by
the hand farthest from the person saluted. In addressing an officer a
Scout will halt two paces from him and salute and will repeat it before
withdrawing.”
Other exercises were followed by the troop drill. The scouts fell into
line for inspection, with the assistant patrol leader on the right of
each patrol, the leader one pace in front of his patrol and the Scout
Master two paces in front of the line.
You will not care for a detailed description of the pleasing drill. If
you wish to learn the various movements, the best plan is to become a
Boy Scout, and at the same time improve yourself mentally, morally and
physically.
Having dismissed the troop with liberty to do as they pleased until
dinner time, Scout Master Hall seated himself on the piazza extending
along the front of the clubhouse, beside his visitor, intending to spend
the interval before dinner time in conversation. He had become much
interested in the old gentleman about whom was wrapped something of
mystery. Hall expected a partial explanation or at least some reference
to the cause of Uncle Elk’s self exile, but he did not give any hint,
and of course Hall was silent on that point.
Thus it came about that when the Instructor in Woodcraft paddled away in
his canoe, quite early in the afternoon, neither the Scout Master nor
his boys knew anything of their visitor beyond the fact that he was a
most attractive old gentleman, with whom they expected to spend many
pleasant hours while serving as his pupils in the woods.