ONCE MORE ON THE TRAIL
At least the signs all pointed to its being a fine day. Elmer was
glad of that, for they expected to have their hands full finding
Perk; and a continuation of the storm of the preceding night must
have broken up their plans more or less, besides proving
uncomfortable.
He was in no hurry to arouse the others.
“Let them sleep,” he said to himself, with a whimsical look on his
own rather peaked face; “they need it, poor chaps; and neither of
them is as used to doing without as I’ve schooled myself to be.”
So he moved about just as softly as possible while replenishing the
fire; and it was really the flames snapping that finally aroused Wee
Willie. He sat upright, and still rubbing one eye stared rather
sheepishly at Elmer.
“Huh! a fine sentry I’d make, I guess, to sleep on my post,” he
mumbled scornfully. “For five cents I’d ask some one to give me
sixteen good kicks.”
“Oh! that’s far too much hard cash,” chuckled Elmer; “lots of
fellows would be glad to do it for nothing, Wee Willie. But let’s
forget our troubles now the morning’s come, and our unwelcome guest
hasn’t returned.”
“Yes, one trouble seems to have skipped out; but there are others
still,” complained the tall chum. “First there’s Perk missing, and
nobody knows which way to look for him, now the trail’s all washed
out. Then the second thing that makes me sad is the lack of
breakfast.”
He put both hands on his stomach, and grunted dismally.
“I guess it hasn’t happened but a few times in all my whole life,”
he went on to confess, “that Wee Willie has been forced to go hungry
in the morning; and I want to tell you right now it’s little short
of a calamity in my estimation. Why, I’ll be shaky all day long; you
can’t expect to keep the furnace agoing without stoking once so
often.”
“But how about that cake of chocolate each of us took along, so as
to stave off starvation?” asked Elmer, maliciously.
His chum made a wry face.
“Well, you see chocolate may be all very fine in its place; but it
never can make me forget how much I love coffee, bacon and eggs,
with flapjacks to wind up the meal on. Now don’t think I’m scorning
chocolate, because it isn’t so; I’ll eat every scrap of my cake, and
be glad to have it; but oh! what an empty void there’ll be after I’m
done.”
Amos must have heard them talking, for he now sat up and wanted to
know who had mentioned coffee.
“Thought I whiffed it brewing, for a fact,” he sniffed, making a wry
face, “but it was all imagination. Think of starting a whole long
day on a silly piece of chocolate; but if the rest of you can stand
it I’m not going to kick.”
“That’s sensible of you, Amos,” laughed Elmer; “though kicking
wouldn’t be apt to help matters any, it strikes me. Let’s sit around
and talk of our late visitor.”
“Yes, we’d like to hear more details about how he went away,” urged
the lengthy chum, as he clawed in a pocket for the square of hard
chocolate, which upon being produced he started to gnaw at eagerly
as if the mere thought of having no breakfast in prospect made him
simply ferocious for something upon which to “fill up.”
Elmer told all he knew as they sat there, waiting for the sun to
appear and warm the chilly early morning air, before thinking of
making a start.
“Well, I’m glad for one,” ventured Amos, “he decided to take French
leave, and it was all owing to your fine trick, Elmer, in making him
believe those two asylum guards were around here, and apt to drop in
on us any old time. Only for that he might be sticking to us as
tight as any old plaster; or the Old Man of the Sea who fastened
himself to the back of Sindbad the Sailor, you may remember, and
refused to dismount.”
They were not long in making way with their scant allowance of
chocolate. Elmer knew that it would be of considerable benefit in
allaying the pangs of hunger; but Wee Willie could not forgive
himself for not fetching a supply of “real stuff” along.
“Shucks! we might have known we’d be out all night, and want
breakfast after a hard day’s work, and a night in the open, without
even our blankets to make things seem half-way cozy. Catch me doing
such a silly trick again—if I do I’ll eat my hat, believe me.”
“The Camp Fire Boys never make the same mistake twice running,”
boasted Amos, and then in a lower voice adding: “though they do have
a way of finding out fresh ways for doing the wrong things.”
“They’re only human, and you know what is said about it being the
common lot of man to err,” Elmer told him. “But if we make it a
practice to learn something every time we find we’ve figured wrong,
well soon be all puffed up with knowledge.”
So they chatted, often in a joking vein, as boys sometimes will on
whose shoulders troubles fall even as lightly as water on a duck’s
back.
“About time we thought of starting out, isn’t it?” asked Amos,
showing a return of his eagerness, the others could easily guess
why, knowing what they did about his intense interest in the tramp
whom their coming had disturbed when in possession of the cabin at
the Bend.
“Yes, for now the sun is up, and by degrees the woods will dry out,”
Elmer decided. “After such a drenching rain we’ll find every little
creek full to the banks, though they’ll soon lower again, I reckon.”
“What about my tuning up, and giving Perk the merry ha! ha?”
demanded Wee Willie, who apparently must feel in good voice.
“Whenever you please,” Elmer told him; “we’ll try not to be
frightened at the racket, knowing it’s only you.”
Wee Willie looked queerly at him, and then went on to say half
humorously:
“Huh! don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not. Makes
me think of that fable of old Æsop about the lion and the donkey
going hunting in company, and coming to a cave where a flock of
goats had taken refuge. You see, it was arranged that the donkey
should go inside, and frighten the game out; while the lion would
lie in wait, and kill the goats as they appeared. Well, Jack went in
and began to hee-haw, and carry on something fierce; the goats came
rushing out, and the lion got his dinner all right. After everything
was over the proud donkey appeared, and asked his partner what he
thought of his performance. ‘Did I do my part well?’ he wanted to
know. ‘Elegantly,’ the lion told him; ‘you made the greatest noise I
ever heard; and in fact I myself might have been frightened if I
hadn’t known that you were only a donkey!’”
Of course both Amos and Elmer laughed, and Wee Willie, too, joined
in, for he was one of that kind of fellows who are capable of
appreciating a joke, even at his own expense.
Elmer showed his careful woodcraft training by making sure that
every ember of the fire was utterly extinguished before quitting the
scene of their night’s camp. He knew full well about the danger that
always lurks in a fire left smouldering by those breaking camp; for
later on perhaps a violent wind might arise that would carry the red
embers into some patch of dead leaves, and thus result in a serious
conflagration. Tens of thousands of acres of most valuable woodland
have been annually destroyed just through such criminal
carelessness. If hunters and campers would only exercise the proper
amount of care, most of these forest fires might be avoided, and
beautiful timber tracts remain intact, to delight the eyes of those
who sought their solitudes for rest and recreation during vacation
times.
At last they got started.
Every little while Wee Willie would throw back his head and awaken
the echoes with a really stentorian whoop, such as might well have
made an Indian brave look envious. They always listened afterwards
with a degree of eagerness, in hopes of catching some return call;
but time after time it went with only a mocking crow winging its
flight overhead uttering a derisive “caw”; or else a blue jay
scolding the invaders of its woods haunt.
Elmer tried to figure out about what course Perk was most apt to
take. In so doing he had their recent experience to guide him; for
he easily remembered how the lost boy kept unconsciously edging
toward the _left_, as wanderers most generally do.
“I notice you keep on the watch all the while, Elmer,” said Amos;
“while Wee Willie and myself use our eyes to scan the woods on every
side, hoping to discover a sign of a moving form, or maybe a
handkerchief waving at us from some far-away tree on a rise, you
scan the ground. Do you expect to run across his trail again, where
he started in after the rain was over?”
“I can’t say I expect that, Amos,” he was told, quietly; “but it’s
always possible, you know. Perk must be somewhere within five miles
of us right now, if only we could get in touch with him.”
“It would certainly be a grand good thing if we did raise his track
once more,” Wee Willie attested; “we’d keep on like so many wolves
chasing their quarry, until we ran him down. But, Elmer, I hope we
won’t have any difficulty about making our way back to camp after we
pick Perk up?”
There was a tiny vein of anxiety in the tall chum’s query; in fact,
Wee Willie was speculating at the time whether he could contrive to
live through the day with just that small cake of chocolate to
sustain his sinking energies. Already he began to claw at any
berries he chanced to see close to his hand in passing, as though
the red Antwerps might help him ward off the dreadful feeling of
distress that came with “Nature abhorring a vacuum.”
“I’ve got my bearing well in hand,” he was calmly assured. “Just as
soon as we find our chum you’ll see me head around, and I warrant I
can take you in a bee-line to our jolly old cabin.”
“That’s the right name to give it, Elmer,” agreed Wee Willie,
contritely. “At first it looked so forlorn and disreputable that any
style seemed to fit the outfit; and I guess I tacked on a lot of
sarcastic names such as ‘old,’ ‘shack,’ ‘shanty,’ and the like. But,
say, right now I beg pardon; that same cabin holds the wherewithal
that links my body to this earth, all our stock of delicious food,
and for that reason if nothing else, it’s going to be the ‘dear old
cabin’ to me from this time on.”
Elmer came to a sudden stop, and held up his hand.
“Listen!” he said abruptly.