Afloat
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Alan Douglas >> Afloat
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Perhaps several of the scouts were just as well satisfied. The idea of
starting out on a trail that might soon take them into a dismal swamp,
and at midnight in the bargain, with a cloudy sky overhead, did not
appeal very strongly to Landy, Toby and Chatz.
Accordingly, they turned back, heading for the friendly barn,
attracted, doubtless, by fond memories of those comfortable beds in the
sweet hay.
"How about the bulldog, Johnny?" asked Elmer, as they reached the barn
entrance.
"I'm meanin' tuh git Mose up yonder, and tie him tuh the tree," replied
the boy. "Them turks hes gut tuh be looked arter, if I hes tuh stay up
all night tuh do the trick. An' lemme tell yuh, Elmer, I kin make up
another trap jest as cunnin' as any ole fox. I'll git 'em yit if so be
they keep hangin' 'raound these parts."
"I believe you would, Johnny," assented the other, who realized that
the bound boy was displaying several good traits that would carry him
along through the world once his time of bondage with the farmer was up.
There being no reason why they should keep away from their sleeping
quarters any longer, the seven scouts entered the barn.
"Wow! but it's plumb dark in here, though!" protested Lil Artha, after
he had knocked his shins twice against some projection, and even
slammed into a post that chanced to be directly in his way.
"We'd better stand still for a little while, so as to let our eyes get
used to the gloom," suggested Elmer; "it's always that way when you
step into one of the moving-picture places, you remember; but a few
minutes later you can see all around you. Better waste a little time
than a lot of cuticle."
"Just so," grunted Lil Artha; "already half an inch of skin has been
barked off my shin, and my nose is swelling where I banged the same
against that awful post."
"Well," remarked Toby, whose ankles had not been bruised and who
consequently could even think to joke about the matter, "it's probably
the first time then Lil Artha was ever left at the post. But I can see
a heap better already."
All of them found that their eyesight soon became accustomed to the
gloom; and that it was not so very bad after all. They had just
managed to reach the place where their traps were left, and started
burrowing in the hay again, when Elmer called their attention to
certain suggestive sounds outside.
"That must be Johnny and the bull pup going past on the way to the
turkey roost," ventured Mark, as they plainly caught a whine, and then
a low growl that was vicious enough to make one's blood turn cold.
"If those fellows should be reckless enough to come back to make a
second try for young turkey," Landy was saying, as though he could not
keep his mind from grappling with Hen Condit and his troubles, "they'll
be some surprised when that ferocious old Mose grabs them by the legs,
and holds on like everything."
"For one, now," admitted Toby, "I'd want to be excused from any session
with the big white teeth of Mose that stick out from his lower jaw.
But if you asked me my opinion I'd say one scare a night was as much as
any ordinary chicken thief could put up with."
"Nothing doing," muttered Lil Artha, showing that he, too, was of the
same mind as the companion scout.
At least it was very evident none of the boys expected being disturbed
again in their slumbers, for they went about settling down as though
they meant to enjoy a good long session.
"Don't wake me too early, mother dear," Toby was heard to say, half to
himself, "for to-morrow won't be the first of May, and I'm not to be
the queen of the occasion either. So please let me have my snooze out,
everybody."
Nothing did occur to disturb their slumbers which doubtless were
additionally sweet after that one break.
Elmer had them all up when he considered that it was right and proper.
True, the sun was only peeping above the horizon, and the birds still
twittered amidst the shrubbery near by; but Elmer knew what great hands
farm people are about getting up betimes, and he did not wish to keep
Mrs. Trotter's breakfast waiting for any sleepy-heads.
The grumbling ceased as if by magic the moment he mentioned that word
"breakfast," and Lil Artha immediately announced himself as being
wide-awake.
"H'm! seems like I could even smell the batter cakes frying right now,
fellows," he told them, with a smack of his lips. "Notice that I scorn
to give them the well-known name of flapjacks on this festive occasion,
because we're going to eat at a regular table, under a hospitable roof;
and it's only when in camp that wheat cakes are called flapjacks."
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," chortled Toby.
"Yes, but if you kept calling it an onion you'd soon think it didn't,"
affirmed Lil Artha; "but say, do you reckon that bell was meant for us?
Oh! where's my other shoe; they pinched me, so I took 'em off in the
middle of the night, and the left one has gone and hid in the hay."
"Mebbe the rats got away with it, Lil Artha," suggested Landy,
wickedly; "I'm certain I heard 'em squeakin' all around here; and they
like shoe for breakfast."
It turned out, however, that there was no damage done; the missing
foot-wear was soon discovered under a wisp of hay, and quickly the tall
scout crept out in the wake of his six comrades.
A second time the bell was heard, and at that they all started on a run
for the rear of the house, where several tin basins, and some soap, as
well as clean towels announced that the farmer's good wife had gotten
things ready for them.
Lil Artha had guessed right; perhaps his keen scent had discovered the
odor of pancakes in the air, for they were in plain sight, several
pyramids of the golden beauties, with a pitcher of real maple syrup,
and plenty of fresh butter to go with the same.
Mrs. Trotter may only have had three little girls of her own, but she
certainly had been brought up in a family where there were boys,
because she knew so well what their weaknesses were.
What with three fried eggs apiece, guaranteed strictly home-grown and
fresh; a great rasher of sweet ham, also a product of the farm; coffee,
with genuine cream in the same, a dish of oatmeal, and then those
steaming stacks of cakes, it was a wonder some of those scouts were not
completely foundered.
Elmer had more or less difficulty in coaxing Lil Artha away from the
table. The elongated scout could hardly breathe, he was so full; but
he heaved many a sigh as he noticed that a fresh plateful of those
unexcelled pancakes had just been put on, with no one left to do them
justice.
Shaking his head sadly, Lil Artha finally managed to get on his feet
and leave the dining-room. His last look back spoke volumes; it said
as plainly as anything those wonderfully expressive words: "though lost
to sight, to memory dear;" and probably never again in the course of
human events would Lil Artha equal the astounding record he made that
same morning of thirteen pancakes straight.
Elmer knew they would have a big day ahead of them, and was really
anxious to get started. He had made arrangements with the farmer and
his wife to supply such provisions as they could conveniently carry
along with them for a couple of days, while they were combing the big
Sassafras Swamp in hopes of coming across the two parties they sought.
If the Chief of Police in Hickory Ridge, with others to help him,
should put in an appearance, Elmer hoped they might be given such
information as lay in the power of Mr. Trotter.
"We are not hoggish, you must know, Mr. Trotter," he told the farmer,
as they were making their last preparations before starting forth;
"much as we want to be the ones who will round up these two lurkers in
Sassafras Swamp, if the police come to take a hand in the chase we wish
them every luck. Yes, and what's more we stand ready as true scouts to
lend them a helping hand."
"All we want," added Ted, seriously, "ith a chance to athist our chum
Hen. We believe him to be under thome influence, and tho we're bent on
breaking hith chains."
Each of the seven boys had a certain load to carry besides his rubber
poncho, and his pack was supposed to hold the extra food supplies as
well. Some people on seeing what these consisted of might imagine the
swamp hunters meant to spend a very long time in their search; but then
such persons would in that way betray their gross ignorance as to what
a growing boy's appetite amounts to. They were taking no chances of
starvation; and two whole days meant at least three times that many
full meals, with sundry bites in between.
From what Elmer had learned through Johnny Spreen, it was possible to
navigate a fair portion of the swamp with a boat. They had several
flat-bottomed skiffs that were used for that purpose, usually by the
boy in his fur-hunting expeditions during the fall and winter seasons.
Unfortunately, things were so much behind at the farm that Johnny could
not be spared to accompany them. Elmer had hinted at this, not because
he feared his own ability to get around, but because Johnny's being
along would save them much precious time.
When the scout leader had soaked in all possible information the bound
boy was capable of delivering, he believed he was in a fair way to
master the situation. If Hen and his unknown captor were still hiding
anywhere in the big swamp, Elmer fancied they could be found. What was
going to happen after that event came about, of course, he could not
say just then.
They made their way along for some distance until near the place where
the three flat-bottomed skiffs were kept tied up. It was here that
Johnny made a sudden discovery that gave them all a little thrill.
CHAPTER VII
THE MISSING SKIFF
"Well, I swan!" was the sudden exclamation that broke from the lips of
Johnny Spreen, the farmer's bound boy, as he came to a halt.
Elmer, glancing hastily at him, saw the boy rubbing his eyes in a
somewhat dazed fashion. He acted for all the world like a fellow who
did not feel sure that his sight was as good as usual. Something
evidently was amiss.
"What is it?" demanded Lil Artha, in his usual impetuous way.
"The boats!" muttered Johnny Spreen.
"Sure thing, we see 'em!" declared the tall scout.
"How many kin yuh count, tell me?" asked the other, beseechingly, still
giving an occasional dab at his eyes, as though doubts clung to his
mind regarding their faithfulness.
"Why, let's see, I glimpse three--no, there are only two skiffs
afloating in that little bayou," Lil Artha told him.
"Only two, air yuh dead sartin?" continued Johnny.
"That's correct, two boats and no more. I c'n see each one as clear as
anything. Why, what difference does that make, Johnny?" asked Toby.
"But ther ought tuh be _three_, I tells yuh," insisted the bound boy;
"wun two-year old, another built larst season, and the last un just
this Spring. Yessir, three on 'em in all."
"Well, I gueth your old boat took a notion to go to the bottom then,
Johnny," asserted Ted, "becauth there are only a pair floating there, I
give you my word."
"They was every wun thar yist'day," persisted Johnny.
"Are you sure of that?" Elmer asked him.
"Well, my name's Johnny Spreen, ain't it?" demanded the other, grimly;
"I'm workin' out my time with Mister Trotter hyar, ain't I? Then I
still got two eyes, and I ain't turned loony yit by a long shot. I
tell yuh, Elmer, I handled three skiffs yist'day--seen as they was tied
securely. And now yuh tells me they be but two."
"Yes, that's a fact," the patrol leader assured him.
"All right then, they gut one, thet's boz."
Elmer expected some such result as this, so after all he did not seem
to be very much staggered.
"I suppose by 'them' you mean the chicken thieves, Johnny?" he remarked.
"No other."
"But if the man has been moving around in the swamp for a couple of
weeks, more or less, could he do without a boat all that time?"
continued the leader.
"I guess he cud, Elmer, though w'en yuh wants tuh trap muskrats yuh
need sum sort o' craft the wust kind. P'raps he didn't chanct tuh run
across our skiffs up tuh last night. Then agin mebbe he was askeered
tuh snatch one, fur fear we'd hunt arter it, an' bother him in the
swamp."
"All right, Johnny, I believe you're barking up the proper tree," said
Elmer; "but it looks as if the man changed his mind last night, and
took a boat."
"Yep, an' by gosh! the newest one o' the lot, too!" groaned the bound
boy, as he led them closer to where the other skiffs floated, secured
to stakes.
"After all that row," suggested Lil Artha, "it might be they thought
we'd give a quick chase, and they couldn't afford to take any more
chances. So as a boat'd come in handy for them they gobbled it."
"Anybody'd pick the best in the bunch, come to that," added wise Toby.
"I don't know about that," Mark went on to say; "a really smart fellow
would be apt to reason that if he took only the old tub the owner
mightn't think it worth while to make much of a hunt for it, not caring
whether he got the same again or not."
"I consider that sound reasoning, Mark," observed the patrol leader,
who was never happier than when he found some of his followers
displaying good judgment in such matters. "But the boat's gone, and
our next duty is to take a look around the bank before we get to
trampling things up too much. We ought to make sure of things by
finding that marked track again."
"It can be done as easy as turning a handspring," vowed Toby Jones, as
all of them immediately spread out, fan-shape, like hounds that had
lost the scent temporarily, and were searching for it again.
Hardly half a minute had gone when there was an exultant cry raised.
"Didn't I say so?" demanded Toby, triumphantly; "but I never thought
Landy of all fellows'd be the one to find the trail."
"Oh! sometimes queer things do happen in this world," asserted the fat
scout, swelling with his triumph; "they say the race ain't always to
the swift. But take a look, everybody, and see if I'm right."
They looked and unanimously pronounced Landy's judgment correct. There
was the imprint of a shoe, a _left_ shoe in the bargain, beyond doubt,
and anyone who had eyes could detect that diagonal mark running across
the sole, which Landy had pointed out before as the line of the new
leather, placed there while he waited for Hen Condit in the Italian
cobbler's shop.
"As plain as the nose on your face, Landy!" admitted Lil Artha, with a
trifle of disappointment in his voice, for he had calculated on
discovering the tracks himself, and for one who was next door to a
greenhorn to do it humiliated the tall scout.
"No personal remarks, please, Lil Artha," said Landy; "I know my nose
isn't as prominent as yours, and some others in the crowd, but it
answers my purpose all right, and I'm not ashamed of it."
"Well, now we know where we're at," remarked Ted, with a satisfied air,
as though it might be a maxim with him to always start right.
"And it's up to us to divide our forces, choose our boats, and make a
start," Mark Cummings was saying.
"Ginger! don't I on'y wish I cud be goin' along!" said Johnny Spreen
with an expression on his face that could only be described as compound
disappointment.
"All of us would be glad if you were, Johnny," Elmer told him, feeling
for the boy, whose company would certainly be of considerable help to
the expedition, for Johnny knew the watery paths and the tangles of
Sassafras Swamp as, perhaps, no other fellow possibly could, since he
had long haunted its recesses, laying traps, and looking for new haunts
of the wily muskrats.
"As there are seven of us, all told," remarked Lil Artha, "that means
three in one boat, and four in the other. Elmer, you divide up. This
newer skiff looks to me just a weenty bit the bigger."
"It is by a foot, and wider, too," asserted Johnny, quickly.
"Then it ought to carry four, of course; but how's this, Johnny, where
are the oars for both craft; I don't see any!"
"Shucks! we don't use oars in the ole swamp," declared the other. "A
push pole's the best way tuh git along. Yuh see it's soft mud
everywhar, and so we cuts poles with a crotch at the end. That keeps
'em frum sinking deep in the mud, so yuh kin git a chanct tuh shove."
"And a mighty good idea, too," avowed Toby; "I've had a little
experience with just plain everyday push poles, and even got hung up
when one stuck in the mud, so the boat left me. But Elmer, how'll we
divide?"
The patrol leader glanced over his force. It was only fair that he
arrange it so the weight would be as nearly equal as possible.
"Lil Artha, take Mark and Landy in the smaller skiff; the rest will go
with me," he announced immediately.
Mark was the nearest chum of the patrol leader, but Elmer disliked
favoritism, and hence he thus tacitly placed Lil Artha in command of
the second boat. But then there was also another good reason for doing
this, since the tall scout had always shown himself to be clever on the
water, much more so than the bugler of the troop.
Johnny was already showing them how to pull the skiffs in by means of a
rope attached to each. It was a good way of mooring them when not in
use.
"Yuh see the third boat was drawed up on the shore here," he remarked
in a disconsolate tone; "'cause I was ausin' her right along. I guess
that's the reason they took the best o' the lot."
When the two boats had been brought to the shore, packs were
distributed in the same, according to the directions of the leader.
These were not hastily tossed aboard, but placed where they would be
out of the way of the one who was using the long push-pole.
"Thank goodneth we've got our camp hatchet along," remarked Ted, as he
took his place, "tho even if we do lose or bweak our pole we can
alwayth cut another one."
"Yep, I never go intuh the swamp without my hatchet," asserted Johnny.
"Yuh see it comes in mighty handy when yuh want tuh make a fire, or cut
a way through sum tangled snarl o' brush. Then, besides, I find a use
fur the same in setting traps, fur mushrats ain't ther on'y kind o' fur
we bags araound these diggings."
Some of the boys might have liked keeping up the talk, especially when
it bordered on such an interesting subject. Elmer, however, knew that
time was valuable to them just then, with such a difficult task ahead.
They had to find two parties who were secreted somewhere in the swamp;
and as Lil Artha declared it was "pretty much like looking for a needle
in a haystack."
Johnny stood there on the bank, and waved his hat to the scouts as he
watched them poling away. They could almost imagine they heard the
tremendous sigh that came from his breast as he saw a glorious chance
for real fun pass from his grasp.
"Good-bye, an' good luck tuh yuh all!" he called out.
Following the serpentine passage of clear water, the two boats soon
passed from the sight of the bound boy, though doubtless he could still
hear gurgling sounds as the push-poles were worked, and the flat prows
of the skiffs passed over the numerous water-lily pads.
And now the swamp was before them.
All of the scouts surveyed the scene with lively anticipations. They
could easily understand that the immediate future might throw all
manner of strange adventures across their path, and, like most boys,
Elmer and his chums were ever hungry for exciting things to happen--it
was in the blood.
But, then, at first the borders of the big Sassafras Swamp did not look
so very forbidding. Elmer warned them not to expect that this
condition of affairs would last long.
"You remember what Johnny told us," he remarked so that all of them
could hear his words; "it keeps getting worse the further you go in.
Things are easy to begin with, but after a while we'll have our hands
full. Above all things we must keep our heads about us, for if we do
that we'll escape getting lost."
"Then Johnny did admit a fellow could get lost in this place, did he?"
inquired Landy, uneasily.
"He used to lose his way often when he first started coming in here
after muskrats," confessed Elmer; "and then he began to have some
system about his excursions so that by degrees he got it all down pat."
"Yes, Johnny said he believed he could pole a boat pretty much into the
heart of Sassafras with his eyes shut or bandaged," remarked Lil Artha.
"Too bad he couldn't get off and be along with us," lamented Landy;
"and Elmer, if we'd only promised Farmer Trotter five dollars a day
he'd have let his help join us, I'm sure of that."
"Huh! too bad you didn't think of that before, Landy, and put it up to
Elmer," jeered Lil Artha; "but I wouldn't bother too much about it if I
was you. Chances are we won't get lost much; and by the same token,
even if we do it'll be some kind of a sensation to wake us up."
Landy scratched his head, but not knowing how much of this was intended
by his tormentor he did not reply. As they were gradually working
further into the dense growth by now there was enough around them to
chain their attention and arouse their interest.
In some places they could see that the shore stood above the sluggish
water, although covered for the most part with dense shrubbery that
would be difficult to pass through. Channels began to be met with
running to the right and left, so that it behooved Elmer to remember
the explicit directions given by the muskrat trapper if he wished to
avoid getting side-tracked in the start.
Lil Artha, in the other boat, was also using his knowledge of woodcraft
to some purpose. When it happened that the two skiffs came alongside
he called out to Elmer, as if to settle some point he had in mind.
"Even if I hadn't listened when Johnny was laying down the law to us
about the main channel in here, Elmer, I reckon I'd had no trouble
stickin' to the same, up to now, anyhow."
"Why tho, Lil Artha?" asked Ted Burgoyne.
"It's just this way," continued the other, briskly, as though only too
willing to show his hand, "you see Johnny has followed the same passage
in here so often now he's actually gone and left a trail behind him."
"Say, what are you giving us, Lil Artha?" demanded Toby; "on shore a
trail is all very well, but the water leaves none. Once it settles
down after a boat's passed, I defy anybody to tell a thing about the
same."
Lil Artha grinned as though he really pitied the dense ignorance of
some people.
"You've got another think coming, Toby," he said, drily. "I suppose if
you sat down and racked your poor brain a whole week you'd be no nearer
knowing what I mean, so I'll have to explain."
"Guess you will, that," muttered Toby; "if you know yourself what
you're getting at, which I doubt."
"Looky there," said the skipper of the second skiff, "do you notice
that where we make this turn to the left the bushes along the point are
kind of frayed, like something had rubbed against 'em a heap of times?"
"Why, yes, it does seem so," admitted Toby, reluctantly.
"All right then," continued Lil Artha; "if you'd kept your eyes about
you all the while you'd seen that same thing at near every turn.
Trying to cut short when he poled along, Johnny has left a track of his
passage at every bend. I always look sharp, and I can tell as easy as
falling off a log whether he went on, or cut into another passage. And
Elmer will bear me out on that explanation, too!"
CHAPTER VIII
PICKING UP CLUES
The leader of the Wolf Patrol laughed when he heard Lil Artha make this
remark.
"Every word that you are saying, Lil Artha, is the truth," he
announced. "I've been watching those ragged edges of bushes myself.
You see, the time might come after a while when I'd get mixed on the
directions given by Johnny Spreen. Then I'd want to have some other
scheme so as to find my way."
"But after a bit, Elmer, we'll get to a spot where Johnny changed his
course from one day to another, as he went to different traps; how're
we meaning to regulate our hunt then?" asked Toby.
"We've got to search the best way we can for the missing skiff," Elmer
explained. "If only we can find it hauled up somewhere on the bank
we'll know they went ashore at that point, don't you see?"
"Why, how eathy!" declared Ted, evidently lost in admiration for the
simplicity of the scheme, that could never have occurred to him before.
"Oh! then, if that's the case I reckon we'd better not be making quite
so much racket as we go along," said Mark.
"I was just going to remark about that," the patrol leader added. "If
all of a sudden we found the boat, and had been talking loud, or
laughing, the chances are the game would give us the slip. So after
this whoever is doing the pushing try not to splash more than you can
help; and when you talk do it in whispers."
Perhaps all this mystery added to the pleasure of such a fellow as Lil
Artha; at least his eyes were sparkling much more than their wont as he
continued to ply his pole with the air of a Venetian gondolier along
the Grand Canal.
Once, however, he must have rammed it too hard into the yielding ooze,
for when he tried to pull it out there was considerable resistance.
Lil Artha managed to stop the moving skiff in time to save himself;
even then he might have been pulled overboard only that watchful Mark,
anticipating something of the sort, threw his arms around the long legs
of the pusher, and held on grimly until the pole could be extricated.
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