ON THE TRACK OF AMOS
When Amos failed to show up at lunch time the two boys did not think it
odd.
“He’s a determined fellow, when once he starts out to do a thing,”
Teddy remarked, as the two of them sat there, eating what had been
provided. “And the chances are he’s had to go further to find his bee
tree than he figured on. Well just put some grub aside and keep the
coffee warm, because Amos does dearly love his coffee.”
“I know another fellow who gave us to understand that he’d risk his
immortal soul for such fine Java as this,” laughingly remarked Dolph.
“Meaning Big Gabe,” said Teddy. “That’s right. But if his stripe of
lumbermen could only drink more coffee, and less whiskey, it would be
better for them. Some people say coffee is bad for the nerves, but it
never makes men crazy, and want to fight, like the other stuff does.”
An hour passed.
“No Amos yet?” asked Teddy, coming up from the canoes, where he had
been doing something to fill in the cut made by the snag, under the
impression that all such serious bruises weakened a canoe, and made it
unreliable in case it was used in the rough water of rapids.
“Nothing doing,” replied Dolph. “Kind of expecting him any time,
though. Come here, and see how you looked taking that header.”
“Hello! been developing a roll of films in your daylight tank, have
you? And did they turn out good?” Teddy asked.
“Look for yourself; I’ve given them a hypo bath, and fixed them. Now
they’re being washed. That one with the teetering canoe, and you taking
a backward plunge, is just immense, aint it, Teddy?”
“Well, that proves one thing, anyhow,” the other declared, with a
laugh, “I know now that I went over _backwards_. Couldn’t just decide
before how I did it. And as sure as you live, there are the deer’s
horns actually tilting the canoe.”
“Great, ain’t it, Teddy?”
“You never got such a picture before in all your life, and I don’t
believe you ever will again. It beats anything I ever saw. But I wish
Amos would come in,” and Teddy frowned a trifle.
“Why, you’re not worried, are you?” Dolph asked.
“Hardly that, but I can’t help but think of those two shots, and wonder
if they could have anything to do with his staying away.”
Dolph made no reply, although, he, too, looked a little uneasy.
When more than another hour had passed, Teddy again approached the
subject that seemed on his mind.
“It’s sure queer we don’t hear anything from Amos,” he remarked.
“Three o’clock, and past. You don’t think now, it’s possible that Amos
could have gone and got lost?” suggested Dolph.
At that Teddy laughed scornfully.
“That boy?” he declared. “Why you couldn’t lose him anywhere in
Northern Michigan. Take him in a balloon, and drop him down somewhere
in the pitch dark, and I honestly believe all he’d have to do would be
to smell the soil, feel of the trees, and tell right away where he was.”
Dolph in turn laughed at that.
“Makes me think of a story I heard once about an old Nantucket
fisherman. He always claimed that he could tell by the smell of the mud
on the anchor, where they were, whenever they had to haul up in a fog.
So one day, just to fool old Captain Jones, his men, while they were
anchored in a fog somewhere off shore, took a handful of soil out of a
box they had on deck, where the skipper kept some parsley growing, of
which he was very fond.”
Hurrying to where he was sleeping they roused the old man by telling
him that they had lost their bearings, and wanted him to tell where
they were at, from the mud scraped off the anchor, and with that they
clapped the soil taken from the parsley box under his nose. He took one
smell, and then jumped to his feet wildly excited, yelling out:
“You lazy lubbers, you’ve let us drift ashore, and we’ve been anchored
right over Mother Jones’ garden!”
It was Teddy’s turn to laugh now. But as the afternoon waned, his fears
kept on growing apace.
“I don’t like it,” he would say, “it’s so unusual for Amos to stay away
like this, and when he only meant to be gone a few hours.”
“But you say he couldn’t be lost?” remarked Dolph.
“I’m dead sure of that.”
“Then tell me, what might have happened to him, Teddy.”
“Oh, one of a good many things. He may have met up with those poachers,
and had trouble,” the other said.
“Yes, that’s always possible,” admitted Dolph.
“Then again, some accident might have happened, Dolph.”
“As how?” demanded the other. “Amos is a careful boy, and not the one
to take unusual risks, like wanting a deer to tow him.”
“That is right,” Teddy continued, smiling, “but then even long
headed fellows can sometimes meet up with accidents in the woods. A
rotten branch might give way under him when he was climbing a tree
to investigate a possible bee hive. And a tumble can break a leg, no
matter if it is as stout as those Amos boasts.”
“Still, I can’t believe such a thing would ever happen to Amos,” Dolph
persisted in saying.
“Then there’s my repeating shot gun—he’s never really handled one, you
know. While it works like a charm for me, and I can’t for the life
of me see how anybody could ever make any mistake handling that gun,
still, I admit I’m worried,” and Teddy showed it in his looks.
“Had we better do anything?” asked Dolph. “I’m ready to follow out
whatever plan you suggest.”
“Oh! we’ll wait another hour,” Teddy replied.
“And then?” the other went on.
“If Amos hasn’t shown up, I’m going to start out on his trail.”
“You must let me go along, Teddy.”
“Of course, wouldn’t think of trying it alone. If the boy was in
serious trouble, of any kind, mind you, it would be as well to have
both of us there.”
That was a long hour.
When it finally ended, both boys were ready and eager to start out. The
tent was securely fastened up, so that if it rained no damage might
come to their things. Teddy even hid away a lot of stuff in a hollow
tree, so that in case thieves came they might not quite clean out the
provision department. He also secreted the paddles, and thus in a
measure guarded against having the canoes, now placed ashore in the
bushes, from being carried away.
“What if he should drop in after we’re gone?” remarked Dolph,
shouldering his gun.
“I’ve thought of that,” replied Teddy.
“And prepared for it too, I wager, for I saw you writing a note,” Dolph
went on to say.
“Yes, which I’ll leave fastened in this stick standing up, one end
of which I’ve split with my knife. He’ll be sure to see it the first
thing,” Teddy remarked.
“What did you say?” asked his chum and camp mate.
“That we were anxious about him, and had started out on his trail. If
he came in while we were gone he was to stay in camp and wait for us.
Could you add anything to that, Dolph?”
“I guess not. And your idea of keeping him here is a good one, too.
Only for that Amos might start out to hunt us up; and so we’d all keep
on chasing around in circles, no end of time. I’m ready, if you are,
Teddy.”
“Here is where I found when he went away. The trail is as plain as
anything, too. No trouble about following that. We’re off.”
And with these words Teddy started. Indeed, they doubtlessly moved
along even more rapidly than Amos himself may have gone, because on
his part the woods boy halted every little while to look around, and
ascertain if there were any bees working on the wild flowers. Had he
found such Amos was prepared to capture one that was already laden with
honey, attach a white thread to him, and then let the insect go free.
It would invariably head straight for the tree hive, for a laden bee
_always_ goes home directly, whence the saying of a “bee line.”
Watching until he could no longer see the trailing white thread, Amos
would have marked the spot. Capturing another laden honey gatherer he
would attach a second thread, and let him loose.
And in this fashion would he draw nearer to the forest hive, until
certain well known signs must have betrayed its presence to the honey
hunter.
But evidently Amos was not finding any bees. At least, he seemed to
make no effort to play this well known little game.
The afternoon wore away, and evening came on. By now the boys guessed
they must be several miles from their camp on the shore of the lake;
and so far not a sign of the missing comrade had they run across.
Both of them became more anxious. At Teddy’s suggestion Dolph even
fired three shots in quick succession. But though they strained their
ears they heard no response to this recognized signal that should have
had an answer.
“I’m afraid there’s something wrong,” remarked Dolph.
“And I’ve been feeling more and more that way for some time,” Teddy
said.
A minute later he uttered a low cry:
“Look what’s that on the ground ahead of us, Dolph?”
The other gasped, fearing the worst; and then exclaimed:
“It’s only what’s left of a deer that’s been shot here, and cut up.”
“But our chum never shot it,” declared Teddy. “See, here are the tracks
of two men. Chances are, Amos saw them kill the deer out of season. And
now they’ve made him go off with them, so he won’t tell what he knows
to a game warden. Here’s a pretty kettle of fish.”