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THE CAMP FIRE BOYS AT LOG CABIN BEND
[Illustration: A guest at the campfire.]
THE CAMP FIRE BOYS AT LOG CABIN BEND
Or
Four Chums Afoot in the Tall Timber
by
OLIVER LEE CLIFTON
Author of “Camp Fire Boys in Muskrat Swamp,”
“Camp Fire Boys at Silver Fox Farm,” etc.
Illustrated by Charles L. Wrenn
Publishers
Barse & Hopkins
New York, N. Y.—Newark, N. J.
Copyright, 1923
By Barse & Hopkins
Printed in the U. S. A.
CONTENTS
I. At Nightfall in the Big Woods
II. The First Campfire
III. The Chum Beloved
IV. Unexpected Visitors
V. All Busy as Beavers
VI. The Events of a Day
VII. The Climber of the Beech Tree
VIII. Amos’s Strange Actions
IX. The Right Kind of Pals
X. Amos Decides
XI. Clearing Skies
XII. Setting the Trap
XIII. The Awakening of Perk
XIV. A Stirring Night Ahead
XV. Caught in the Storm
XVI. Where Woodcraft Pays
XVII. A Guest at the Campfire
XVIII. Elmer Has a Plan
XIX. The Long, Long Night
XX. Once More on the Trail
XXI. “Toot—Toot—T-o-oot!”
XXII. Not So Slow, After All
XXIII. What Perk Did
XXIV. When the Sun Broke Through
XXV. Back at the Cabin Again
XXVI. Looking Forward—Conclusion
ILLUSTRATIONS
A guest at the campfire
“A whopping big cat, for a fact!”
His method of descending the tree was exceedingly clumsy
Mr. Codling found the litter much more comfortable
THE CAMP FIRE BOYS AT LOG CABIN BEND
CHAPTER I
AT NIGHTFALL IN THE BIG WOODS
“How far have we hiked, Elmer, would you say?”
“About twelve miles, at a rough guess, Perk.”
“Huh! then we ought to be close to the ford, where this old river
road crosses to the east shore of the Beaverkill, eh, Elmer?”
“If you listen carefully, Perk, you’ll hear the gurgle of the water
among the stepping stones that lie at the upper edge of Galloway’s
Ford.”
“That’s a fact; and say, I might have noticed it before now, only I
was so busy watching some honey-bees working in the wild flowers
alongside the road, and wondering if we’d be lucky enough to run
across their hive, away up in the top of some hollow tree. Wow! the
very idea makes my mouth water.”
“Well, once across the river and we’ll have about four miles more to
tramp before we can pitch camp; is that O.K., Elmer?”
“A close guess for you, Wee Willie; but over a rough trail instead
of this fairly decent road. Above the ford on this side there’s just
a tote-road leading up to Si. Keck’s deserted lumber camp that lies,
you remember, on the edge of Muskrat Swamp. This road crosses to the
other side, and runs to Crawford Notch, ten miles away.”
“Huh!”
The chap who uttered this last exclamation half belligerently was
what you might call a “horrible example” of the folly often
displayed by boys when clapping a “nick-name” on some unsuspecting
comrade.
Really “Wee Willie” was a full head taller than any one of his three
chums, having possibly “shot up” overnight when about fourteen, as
often happens—he was three years past that age now.
Perhaps at one time young Winkleman may have seemed puny and
undersized, so that he really merited the queer sobriquet his mates
had fastened upon him. But nowadays it seemed absolutely ridiculous,
and few ever used it save when accompanied by a whimsical grin that
must have become exceedingly annoying to the tall, angular,
sandy-haired and freckled youth; more especially since he had of
late been taking girls to country barn-dances.
The boy named “Perk,” really Aloysius Green Perkins, a rosy-faced,
genial-looking, and altogether wholesome chap, whom everybody liked,
once more spoke up. He was wheezing, being a bit stout of build, and
frequently mopped his face with a suspiciously dingy-looking red
bandanna; for the summer day had been rather warm, and each fellow
carried quite a weighty pack on his back.
“I’m more than sorry I kept you waiting for me, because I wanted to
see my dad when his train came in; but I had an important message
for him, you know. So I guess it’s my fault if we have to make the
last lap of our big hike after night sets in.”
“We should worry a whole lot about that!” disdainfully chortled the
tall tramper. “Here’s Elmer got his fine pocket flashlight along;
and besides, if we feel like it we can hold up a bit, and wait for
the old moon to come along. She’s due shortly after dark sets in,
you remember, fellows, being just past the full stage.”
“You’ve said it, Wee Willie,” remarked Elmer; “and we ought to be
good for a few more miles.”
“Huh!” grunted the tall chap, just as before, as though the mention
of that name grated on his nerves.
“Sure thing,” assented Perk, sturdily, though at the time it is
possible his plump lower limbs were feeling more or less “wobbly”
under him.
“Here’s the ford, and now to cross over,” remarked the fourth member
of the party, Amos Codling by name, who was rather a newcomer in
Chester; though ever since his advent, some six months previous, he
and Elmer Kitching had been fast friends after a sort of David and
Jonathan fashion.
The Beaverkill was not at a high stage, owing to summer droughts,
but made up for this by being unusually noisy at the point where its
waters ran past the “stepping stones,” forming eddies, and pools of
foam-crested water.
The four chums proceeded to cross over. As a rule they were
nimblefooted, and found little trouble in springing from rock to
rock. Once, however, fat Perk came near slipping into the “drink,”
when he made a little miscalculation. However, it happened that wise
Elmer had been “keeping tabs” on the movements of the other, and
managed to throw out a helping hand just in the nick of time.
So at last they reached the other shore. Perk was heard to draw a
long breath as of real relief; for he believed he had just had a
narrow escape from taking an involuntary bath, in which his pack
must have been thoroughly soaked as well as himself.
“Now we leave the Crawford Notch road, and take to the trail that
leads to Log Cabin Bend above here,” announced Elmer, who seemed to
be looked upon as a leader among his mates.
“I reckon now this might be your old trail,” mentioned Wee Willie,
as he pointed indifferently down at his feet.
Elmer agreed with him, for the “signs” were all there. And so
without wasting any time in argument they started off in single
file, with Perk fetching up the rear.
Already the sun was low down, and night could not be far distant.
The trees up in this region were unusually tall, for the lumberman
had not as yet attacked the eastern side of the Beaverkill.
“Say, let me tell you, it’s going to be some gloomy around here
pretty soon,” observed the tall boy, after they had been tramping in
this fashion for at least fifteen minutes, keeping up quite a lively
pace.
Amos sighed, as though he might be carrying a little more than his
share of boyish troubles himself; at which Elmer half turned his
head to glance uneasily at his chum; doubtless wondering what it
could be that of late was making the other seem so heavy-hearted.
They continued to plunge along, Elmer setting the pace. Already two
of the four miles had been left behind them, a fact that Perk heard
the leader state with much joy, though he only grunted in his
peculiar way.
“Hope you don’t lose touch with this blinky old trail, Elmer,”
suggested Wee Willie, apparently with a motive in view.
“That would be pretty tough on us, for a fact,” chuckled the other;
“and as it’s getting to be something of a strain on my eyes to pick
my way, I reckon it’s time we had a little artificial help.”
With that there immediately sprang into existence a glow from his
electric flashlight that brightly illuminated the forest ahead.
“That’s the ticket!” ejaculated the relieved Perk as they continued
to move along their way, winding in among the aisles of the tall
timber, but in the main keeping toward the north.
“I understand there’s some sort of queer history connected with this
old abandoned cabin at the big bend of the river; do you happen to
know anything about it, Elmer?” asked Amos, presently.
“Oh! I’ve heard some strange things about it,” came the quick reply;
“but I’m not feeling just in the humor to mention any of the same
right now. They’ll keep until some evening, when we’re sitting
around the fire, and spinning yarns.”
“Some of them are just _aw_ful,” Perk was heard remarking from a
little distance in the rear, for at times he seemed to lag more or
less; “but of course I never take much stock in such old women
stories.”
“All the same there _was_ some sort of tragedy took place—” began
Wee Willie, when Elmer stopped him short by saying:
“Drop that, old fellow; we said we’d avoid any and all unpleasant
subjects for to-night, when all of us are feeling a bit tired and
grumpy. Let’s figure out what sort of supper we’d enjoy most when we
arrive. I always look forward to the first meal in camp.”
“And the next one, too,” sighed Perk.
That started them on a congenial topic always deeply absorbing to
healthy and hungry lads; and they continued to lay out a program
which, had it been carried through in its entirety, must have made
serious inroads in the limited stock of provisions carried on their
backs.
Later on they relapsed into silence again, being pretty well worn
out and in need of refreshment. It was about this time that all of
them received a sudden rude shock when there came a savage snarl;
and as Elmer threw his light to the quarter whence came the
significant sound they discovered a crouching figure on the low limb
of a tree under which the winding trail to Log Cabin Bend apparently
ran.