“Or when you’re caught in a blizzard,” added Shep. “Do you remember that blizzard last Christmas?”
“Will we ever forget it,” answered Giant. “Just the same, what Snap says is true—give me such an outing as this every time. Some fellows are always hankering after the city—but I never did.”
An hour later the young hunters reached the end of the lake, where a small, rocky watercourse joined that body of water to Firefly Lake. Here they went into camp, pitching their tent in a convenient spot among the trees. Over a bright campfire they cooked some of the fish to a turn, and took their time eating the meal. Then they sat around and chatted, and Giant told his chums something which interested them not a little.
CHAPTER X
THE STORY OF A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE
The boys were talking about money matters in general and inheritances in particular when Giant mentioned the fact that his mother had some money coming to her, but could not get possession of it.
“You know my mother came from France,” said the small member of the club. “She arrived in this country when she was about sixteen years of age, coming with an uncle, who was her guardian. My uncle’s name was Pierre Dunrot, and he was by profession a teacher of ancient history.”
“No wonder you always get your history lessons so easily,” was Whopper’s comment. “It must run in the blood.”
“You keep quiet, Whopper, and let Giant tell us about this money,” interposed Snap.
“After my mother was in this country about six years, she met my father and married him. My uncle approved of the match, although he told my mother he wished she had married a Frenchman instead of an American. They all went to live at a place called Watchville on the seacoast. My uncle was then writing a great work on ancient history to be issued in ten big volumes.”
“Phew! I hope he didn’t want any fellows to study it,” murmured the doctor’s son.
“Mother has told me that my uncle was all right in his mind while I was a little boy and when my father was alive. But after my father died Uncle Pierre grew kind of queer in his head. My mother thought it was too much study and she advised him to take a rest. But he said he must get his big history written and he kept on writing and burning the midnight oil as college fellows call it, and it made him queerer and queerer every day.
“One day he went to the post-office for his mail. That was when I was about nine years old. When he got back he began to dance around and he caught me by the hands and rushed around the house like a crazy man. ‘A hundred thousand francs! A hundred thousand francs!’ he kept calling out, over and over again. Then my mother asked him what he meant. He said a distant relative had died and left him and her a hundred thousand francs.”
“How much is that?” asked Whopper, who knew little about French money.
“A franc is worth about nineteen cents,” said Snap.
“Yes, and a hundred thousand francs is about nineteen thousand dollars,” went on Giant. “My mother tried to get the particulars from Uncle Pierre, but he was so excited she could not, excepting that half the money was coming to himself and half to her. He said he would see about it the next day.
“That night there came a violent thunderstorm and our house was struck by lightning. The only damage done was to one corner in which was located Uncle Pierre’s writing desk. The desk was ripped apart by the lightning bolt and some of his precious manuscripts were burnt.
“When my uncle discovered that part of his great historical work had been destroyed he acted as if he was insane. He was almost on the point of committing suicide, but my mother stopped him. She told him to remember about his good fortune in having all that money left to him, but he only shook his head and said he would rather have his manuscripts back. At last she got him to bed, but in the morning he had disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” came from the others.
“Yes. He had put on the oldest suit of clothes he had and gone away. Of course my mother sent out an alarm, and men hunted all over for him. But he was not to be found.”
“But you found him later,” ventured Snap.
“No, he was never found. When folks learned how queerly he had acted all came to the conclusion that he had gone to the river and drowned himself, and after awhile my mother thought so too.”
“And what of the fortune?” questioned Shep.
“My mother tried to find the letter Uncle Pierre had received, but that was gone too. Then she wrote to France. She learned that some money was really coming to her and my uncle, but could not get any particulars. She even employed a lawyer, but after a year the lawyer gave up, too. There was a mystery about the whole affair and the solution, it seems, rested with my Uncle Pierre.”
“And you never got the money?” asked Whopper.
“Not a dollar of it.”
“It’s queer you never spoke about this before,” said Snap.
“Well, mother doesn’t like to speak of it, because she doesn’t want folks to know we had a crazy man in our family. But Uncle Pierre wasn’t really crazy—he was only queer—and that lightning bolt burning up his beloved manuscripts unset him completely.”
“I hope you’ll get that money some day, Giant,” said Snap. “I wouldn’t give up trying for it so easily.”
“When I am a man and can afford it, I am going to France and try to hunt it up,” answered the small youth.
“Does your mother ever say anything about it?” questioned Shep.
“Not much. She hates to think of my uncle. She was very much attached to him, and to have him disappear like that makes her shudder and feel very bad.”
“Were you living over on the coast when he disappeared?”
“Oh, no, we were living at a place called Bartonville, about twenty miles to the north of here. My father used to be cashier of the Bartonville Lumber Company.”
“I once heard of a man disappearing and coming home fifteen years later,” said Shep. “But he simply ran away because he had some trouble with his wife.”
“I heard of a case like that,” put in Whopper, with a grin on his face. “That man wanted his wife to make him some gooseberry pie and she wouldn’t do it. When he came back he asked her, ‘Maria, will you make the gooseberry pie now?’ and she answered, ‘no.’ ‘All right,’ said he, ‘I’ll go away again,’ and he did.”
“That’s a whopper all right enough!” cried Snap. “It’s about time you turned up. You have been very quiet lately.”
“I never tell anything but the strict truth,” said Whopper, meekly.
When it came time to retire, Snap asked the others if they should post a guard.
“Oh, I think we are safe enough without one,” answered the doctor’s son, who was fagged out. “Let’s chance it.”
“Most of our outfit is on the boat,” said Whopper. “I don’t believe anybody will carry it off.”
“Let us fix the fire so it will burn the most of the night,” said Giant. “That will scare off any wild animals that may be prowling around.”
Wood was to be had in plenty, and they cut several sticks which were not very dry and would, consequently, burn slowly. They sat up until about nine o’clock and then turned in, resolved to be up at daybreak and on their way once more, directly after breakfast.
It was cozy enough in the tent, which was just large enough to accommodate the four boys. As they were to remain there but one night they had not fixed up any couches further than to throw down some dry brushwood and a few cedar boughs. Giant and Whopper rested at the rear of the tent and Snap and Shep in front, close to the half-open flap.
Snap had been asleep about two hours when he awoke with a start. He listened and heard the bark of a fox not very far from the camp.
“Wish I could bring him down, just for the fun of the thing,” he murmured to himself, and then, reaching for his shotgun, he arose and tiptoed his way out of the tent.
The fire had burned low and Snap was wise enough to slink into the shadows, so that the fox might not see him. Just back of the temporary camp was a big rock and toward this he crawled, keeping his firearm before him and ready for use.
Several minutes passed, and then he heard the bark of the fox once more, this time much closer. He strained his eyes to catch sight of the creature, but the darkness under the trees was too great.
After that fully five minutes passed and Snap had about made up his mind that the fox had gotten scared and turned tail, when he heard a cracking of brushwood directly in front of him.
With eyes on the alert he watched in the direction from whence the sound had proceeded, and at last caught the gleam of two small eyes as they looked suspiciously at the campfire.
“Now is my chance,” thought the young hunter, and raising his shotgun he took hasty aim and pulled the trigger.
Only a sharp click followed, and all in a flash Snap remembered that in the evening he had cleaned the firearm, but had not loaded it. The fox heard the click, caught sight of Snap, and whirling around made a leap for the woods and was out of sight in a twinkling.
CHAPTER XI
A SEARCH FOR A ROWBOAT
“Well, of all the chumps in this world, I’m the worst!”
Thus it was that Snap upbraided himself for having forgotten to load the firearm. He knew it would be useless to dash back to the tent for ammunition—the fox was gone and would take good care to keep its distance.
Much chagrined over his mistake, the youth turned back and walked toward the fire. Then he set his gun against a tree and built up the blaze a bit, for the night was chilly. He was just about to leave the fire and crawl back in the tent when a voice reached him:
“Who is out there?” It was Shep who asked the question.
“It is I, Snap,” was the reply.
“What’s wrong?” And now the doctor’s son poked his head from the shelter.
“I heard a fox and thought I’d shoot him—-but he ran away,” said Snap. He was in no humor to tell about the empty shotgun, for he did not wish his chum to have the laugh on him.
“Oh, is that all. Say, do you know it’s cold?”
“Yes, and that is why I am stirring up the fire,” answered Snap.
“Do you know, I had an awful dream,” continued the doctor’s son. “It has left me wideawake.”
“Better go to sleep, Shep, or you’ll be fagged out in the morning.”
“I dreamed somebody ran away with our boat and all our supplies,” went on Shep. “We didn’t have a thing left, and we were in our nightclothes!”
“You must have been thinking of Ham Spink and Carl Dudder, and what they did last year.”
“Maybe. Of course the boat and outfit are safe,” went on the doctor’s son.
“I suppose so—I haven’t looked.”
“Just take a look before you turn in, will you?”
“Yes.”
Shep’s head disappeared, and Snap finished fixing the fire. Then he turned to the lake, where the boat with the most of the outfit had been left, tied to an overhanging tree.
The craft with its contents was gone!
Snap could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses. He pinched himself, to make certain that he was awake. It was true—the craft was nowhere in sight.
At first he thought to arouse the others but then concluded to look for the boat first. Perhaps it had only broken away and was drifting close by. If so he would bring it back and fasten it securely without giving the alarm.
But a five-minutes’ hunt convinced Snap that the rowboat with its valuable contents was nowhere in that vicinity, and then he ran back to the tent much disturbed.
“Get up, you fellows!” he called. “Get up! The boat is gone!”
At first nobody paid attention, for even Shep was asleep once more. But then Giant roused up, quickly followed by his chums.
“What’s the matter?”
“The boat and our outfit is gone!”
“Gone!”
“Why—er—I dreamed it!” stammered the doctor’s son. “Am I awake or asleep?”
“You’re awake,” answered Snap, and then he continued hurriedly: “Shep, do you think you heard somebody take the boat while you were in a doze and so imagined you dreamed it?”
“I—er—I don’t know. No, I don’t think I did—my dream was so unnatural. Come to think of it, the boat had wings and flew away. Now, that couldn’t happen.”
“Not unless some wizard turned the craft into an airship,” answered Whopper.
All were soon at the water’s edge and looking in all directions for the missing rowboat. What had been left of the outfit had been stored in the stern and tied down with a rubber cloth, to keep off the heavy dew. They stirred up the campfire still more, and each provided himself with a firebrand as a torch.
“This is the worst luck yet,” observed the doctor’s son, with something like a groan. “Supposing we can’t get our boat and outfit back—“
“Oh, we’ve got to get ’em back!” burst out Whopper. “We’ll do it if we have to scrape the lake with a fine-tooth comb.”
“I wish it was morning—we can’t see much in the dark, even with the torches,” said Shep.
Giant was examining the shore, for the possible discovery of strange footprints. But he could discover none that looked different from their own.
“If I was an Indian I might distinguish them, but to me they all look alike,” he said.
What to do next the young hunters did not know. Had they had a second boat they might have rowed up and down the lake, but even this move was denied to them.
“Let us go up and down the shore on foot,” suggested Snap. “It is all out of the question to go back to bed—I couldn’t sleep a wink.”
It was decided that Shep and Snap should go north while Whopper and Giant went south. All procured new torches, and each took along a gun.
“If you discover anything give the old whistle,” said the leader of the club.
The way Snap and Shep had chosen was anything but easy. To the northward the shore of Lake Cameron was rocky and uneven, with many gullies and little streams flowing over the rocks. More than once they thought they heard somebody or some animal moving but the sound proved to be nothing but the falling water. Once Shep stepped into a hollow and was scared by the sudden appearance of several big bullfrogs.
“Wish they were rabbits or squirrels, I might shoot them,” he said.
“Well, you can shoot the frogs if you wish,” answered Snap. “The hind legs are as sweet as squirrel meat.”
“I know that—but I’m not out for frogs just now. I want to find that boat.”
The two young hunters covered a quarter of a mile when they came out on a small point of land overlooking the broad lake. As they, did this Snag uttered a cry:
“What is that out yonder, Shep?”
“Why, I declare, it looks like the boat!”
“Just what I was thinking. How can we get to her?”
“I don’t know—unless we swim over.”
“Is anybody on board?”
“I can’t make out—in fact, I am not at all sure it is the boat,” was the slow answer.
The object they had discovered was quite a distance out on the lake and the light from their torches reached it but faintly. The thing was drifting down the lake slowly, and as they watched it almost passed from view.
“Here, this won’t do,” cried Snap. “If it is the boat we must catch her and bring her in.”
“It’s kind of cold swimming—this time of night,” answered the doctor’s son, who did not relish such a bath.
“Here, you hold my things and I’ll swim out,” declared Snap, “I don’t think the water is any colder now than in the day time.”
He was soon ready for the plunge, and noting the direction in which the object had last been seen, he waded into the water. The first touch felt icy, but after he had ducked down and taken a few strokes it did not seem so bad. He struck out lustily, and Shep held up both torches, that he might have some light by which to guide himself.
Snap was a good swimmer, but the object out on the lake was further away than he had calculated, and it took him fully five minutes to get in the vicinity of it. The sky had clouded over a bit, hiding the stars, so he could see little or nothing on the water. On the shore he could see the two torches that the doctor’s son was waving and that was all.
At last Snap saw the dark object directly ahead of him. By this time he was somewhat exhausted by his swim and he was glad to think that he would soon be able to rest. Then he made a discovery which did not please him at all.
The object was nothing more than a part of a fallen tree, the trunk resting half in and half out of the water and several branches sticking out in as many directions. At a distance it looked a little like the rowboat but the resemblance faded completely as he got closer.
“Too bad! I thought it was the boat sure!” he murmured. “Well, I’ll have to rest on the log a bit, before I strike out for shore.”
He swam up to one of the branches and caught hold of it. He was on the point of reaching for the tree trunk when an unusual sound came to his ears.
Then Snap made a discovery that almost took his breath from him. On the tree trunk rested a big wildcat, it’s eyes gleaming fiercely at the youth in the water!
CHAPTER XII
THE CAMP ON LAKE CAMERON
Snap did not stand upon the order of his going, but went at once. Without a thing with which to defend himself, he had no desire to come into contact with such a savage creature as a wildcat, and, consequently, he dropped back into the water in a hurry and started back for the shore. He almost fancied he heard the wildcat splash in after him, and a chill crept down his backbone which was not caused by the night air.
“Hello! hello!” he yelled to Shep.
“Got the boat?” came back the cry.
“Not much! Get your shotgun ready and fire a shot into the air.”
“What’s the matter?”
“A wildcat is out here—on a floating log. I’m afraid he’s after me.”
“A wildcat! Want me to scare him away?”
“Yes.”
The doctor’s son now understood, and raising his shotgun with one arm he pulled the trigger.
The report sounded out loudly in the night air and the echoes went ringing over the surrounding hills.
In the meantime Snap continued to swim for the shore with all possible speed. Fortunately he came in where there was a sandbar, so that he could wade to solid ground. When Shep reached him he was panting for breath.
“I wa—was—never so scar—scared in my, life!” he panted. “It was only an old tree, and I was going to take a rest on it when I heard the wildcat. He was a big fellow, and his eyes seemed to bore me through and through. Maybe I didn’t strike out for shore in a hurry!
“I don’t blame you,” answered the doctor’s son. “Did he jump in the water after you?”
“I don’t know.”
“And it wasn’t the boat?”
“No, I didn’t see a thing of the boat.”
Snap lost no time in dressing, and in the meantime Shep kept his eyes open for the possible appearance of the wildcat. But the savage creature did not show itself, nor did the fallen tree come again into view.
The report of the gun had reached Giant and Whopper, and they came up on the run, fearing something serious had occurred.
“We walked along the shore for almost quarter of a mile,” said Whopper, “but we didn’t see a blessed thing that looked like the boat. I am afraid it’s gone for good.”
“If it is we’ll have to go home, and that will be the end of this outing,” answered Shep.
“Oh, we’re going to find that boat!” declared Giant. “But I don’t think we’ll be able to do much until daybreak.”
They followed the shore for a short distance further, and then went back to the temporary camp. It was now half-past three in the morning.
“It will be growing light in another hour,” said Whopper. “I move we get breakfast and be ready to start off as soon as we can see.”
His suggestion was carried out. Snap’s swim had made him cold, and he was glad enough to drink two cups of steaming hot coffee. The boys had brought some doughnuts along, and these, with the coffee and some fried fish, gave them a very appetizing breakfast. They took their time eating, waiting impatiently for the first signs of light in the eastern sky.
At last it was light enough to see almost across the lake, and then they looked in all directions for some sign of the missing rowboat. The craft was not in sight, and once again the party divided, this time Whopper and Snap going to the south and Shep and Giant to the north. Each took his gun along, and it was Snap who told them to make sure the firearms were loaded.
“You never want to go out with an empty gun,” he said.
“Humph!” muttered Giant. “Did you ever do such a thing?” But Snap pretended not to hear and did not answer.
Whopper and Snap covered almost half a mile before they came to a turn in the lake shore. Here there was quite a good sized cove, and much to their surprise they saw two large tents standing among the trees. Nearby was the remains of a campfire, with sticks, an iron chain, and a big iron pot over it.
“I didn’t notice this camp when we came up,” said Whopper.
“All the folks here must be asleep,” said Snap. But as he spoke a man came from one of the tents and stared at them. It was Andrew Felps, the rich lumber merchant who owned much of the land around the lake and who had treated them so meanly the summer and the winter previous.
“Hi, you!” roared Felps. “What are you doing around here?”
“Looking for our boat,” answered Snap.
“Humph! This is a pretty time to visit our camp, I must say!”
“We didn’t know you had a camp here,” said Whopper.
“I’d like to know what you are doing here—after my ordering you away last summer and last winter,” went on the lumber merchant, sourly.
“Didn’t I say I was looking for our boat?” said Snap.
“Well, if you’ve got a boat you must be camping up here.”
“We stayed ashore over night, that’s all. We are bound for Lake Narsac,” said Whopper. “Did you see a boat drifting past?” he continued.
“No, I didn’t,” snapped Andrew Felps. “Look here,” he continued. “If this is a trick, let me warn you. You can’t camp around here, and that settles it.”
“We don’t want to camp around here, Mr. Felps,” answered Snap. “All we want is our boat, which got away from us last night. If you saw anything of the craft—“
“I want you to get out of here!” roared the lumber merchant. “I won’t have you hanging around!”
At this moment two men came from one of the tents. They were Giles Faswig and Vance Lemon, the lumber merchant’s two friends, and the men who had once tried to get the boys to let them have some ammunition. They had treated the young hunters so meanly that the latter had voted not to let them have any powder or cartridges and this had broken up the outing of the Felps party.
“Hello, those young rascals are out here again!” muttered Vance Lemon, who was naturally as sour as his name implied.
“Say, I’ve fixed them,” whispered Giles Faswig, with a wink at Lemon. “I’ll tell you about it later. I took a walk late last night, and I discovered they were camping not far from this spot.”
“We are not young rascals!” cried Snap, indignantly. “We are just as good as you are, and maybe better.”
“Bah! don’t talk to me!” growled Vance Lemon.
“You thought you were smart last winter, when you refused to sell us a little ammunition,” broke in Giles Faswig. “I haven’t forgotten that dirty trick.”
“You know well enough why we didn’t let you have the ammunition,” answered Snap. “You didn’t deserve it.”
“Humph! Just wait, and you’ll find out—” The man did not finish.
“Now I want you two boys to go away—and stay away!” cried Andrew Felps. “If you are bound for Lake Narsac better be on your way.”
“We can’t go until we have found our missing boat,” said Whopper. “It must be somewhere on this lake.”
“Make them go away,” said Giles Faswig, and then he whispered something in the rich lumber dealer’s ear. Whatever he had to tell made Andrew Felps grin.
Snap and Whopper saw the whispering and the grin, and instantly they suspected some trick. They well remembered what a rage Faswig had been in when they had refused to let him have any, ammunition.
“Look here, if you know anything about our boat I want to know it,” said Whopper, without stopping to think twice.
“Your boat?” repeated Vance Lemon, and then he looked at Giles Faswig, who winked.
“Yes, our boat,” repeated Whopper. “We tied it to a tree last night and now it is gone.”
“I didn’t touch your boat,” growled Andrew Felps.
“Nor did I,” put in Vance Lemon.
“You had better be gone about your business,” came from Giles Faswig. “We didn’t come up here to be bothered by a lot of kids.”
“We want our boat—and we are bound to get it,” said Snap, firmly.
“Well, go find it,” cried Andrew Felps.
“We want to know if anybody in this camp knows anything about the boat.”
Just then a boy of eight or nine years of age came out of one of the tents, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“Uncle Giles,” he said, walking up to Faswig, “where are we going to-day, and what are you going to do with that boat you brought in when I woke up last night?”
CHAPTER XIII
IN THE CAMP OF THE ENEMY
Snap and Whopper listened to the words of the small boy with keen interest. Instantly they came to the conclusion that the lad must be speaking of their own craft.
“Hush, Dick!” cried Giles Faswig, hastily. “You go back in the tent and stay there until these strangers go away.”
“What boat did your uncle bring in last night?” asked Snap, walking up to the lad.
“See here, you leave my nephew alone!” roared Faswig.
“Can’t I speak to him?”
“No, I don’t want him talking to the likes of you.”
“He said you brought in a boat last night when he woke up,” came from Whopper. “Was it our boat?”
“None of your business!” snapped Giles Faswig, and as he spoke he took his nephew by the arm and turned him back into one of the tents. “Stay there, now mind!” he added, in a low, tense voice.
“It’s a good deal of our business,” said Snap, “if it was our boat.”
“Come on and take a look around,” added Whopper, and started for the other side of the cove, where a mass of brushwood and overhanging trees screened a portion of the water from view.
Giles Faswig strode up to the two young hunters and caught Snap by the arm. The next instant the hand was shaken off violently and the youth stood before the man with blazing eyes and doubled-up fists.
“Don’t you try that again, Mr. Faswig,” said Snap, in a cold, measured voice. “You have no right to touch me.”
“And you have no right in this camp.”
“You clear out!” came from Andrew Felps. “I don’t want you around another minute.”
Faswig stepped in front of the boys and so did Felps and Lemon. All three of the men looked ugly, and Snap and Whopper did not know what to do.
“Mr. Felps,” began Snap, after a painful pause, “I want you to listen to what I have to say. Last night our rowboat with our outfit on board disappeared. I don’t know if it drifted off or was stolen. If it was stolen, and we find it out, somebody is going to be arrested for the theft.”
“Ha! do you call me a thief!” burst out the lumber dealer, in a rage.
“Not at all I am only telling you a few plain facts. We have every reason to believe our boat is somewhere around this camp. If it is I want to know if you are going to give it up peaceably, or if we’ll have to send down to town for an officer of the law?
“You—you—” commenced Andrew Felps, and then looked at Giles Faswig, who had turned slightly pale.
“This may not be a serious business to you but it is to us,” continued Snap. “There are four of us in our party, and if you have our boat, we can all testify to that fact. Three of us can stay here and watch you while the fourth goes for the officer.”
“Do you think we’d steal a measly rowboat?” asked Vance Lemon, but he glanced at Faswig as he spoke, and his tone was an uneasy one.
“I don’t know what you’d do. But that boy, said something about bringing in a boat last night, and I want to know if it is our boat.”
“How do I know whose boat it is?” growled Giles Faswig.
“Has it got the name _Snapper_ on it?” asked Whopper.
“I didn’t notice. I saw a boat drifting on the lake and hauled it in, that’s all,” answered Giles Faswig, curtly. “For all I know, you are trying to get somebody else’s property away from me.”
“You let us see that boat, and we’ll soon tell you if it is ours or not,” said Snap.
“I was out on the shore last night and I saw something drifting by and drew it in,” explained Giles Faswig. “I hauled it back of yonder bushes. If you can prove it is your property you can take it, but not otherwise.”
“We’ll soon find out,” answered Snap, and walked over in the direction pointed out. As he did this, Whopper put his little fingers in the corners of his mouth and gave a piercing whistle.
“What’s that for?” demanded Andrew Faswig, in alarm.
“We want our crowd down here—and some others,” said Whopper.
“Some others? Who?” asked Faswig, and now he was also alarmed.
“Some folks who will give us all the help we want,” said Snap, quick to understand the ruse his chum was playing.
“How many people are up here?” asked the rich lumber dealer, nervously.
“Oh, seven or eight,” answered Whopper, but did not add that he was counting in Felps’s own party.
Behind a thick mass of brushwood rested the _Snapper_, as the boys’ craft had been christened. The boat was very much as the lads had left it, but Snap was quick to detect that the painter, which had before had a frayed-out end, had been cut by some sharp instrument, probably a knife.
“This is our boat,” said Snap, as he looked the craft over.
“Humph, can you prove it?” growled Giles Faswig.
“Yes, and I can prove more if I have to,” added the leader of the hunting club.
“What?”
“That the rope has been cut.”
“What does that signify?” asked Andrew Felps.
“It shows that the boat didn’t drift away. Somebody cut the rope and made off with her.”
“See here—” began Giles Faswig, and then stopped short. There was a shout, and Giant and Shep burst into view.
“Got the boat, eh?” cried the doctor’s son. “Good!” And then he looked curiously at the men, and so did Giant.
“Come on and shove the boat out,” said Snap. “We’ll talk this over later.” And before anybody could stop him he was in the craft and pushing out of the bushes.
“Say look here—” began Andrew Felps, but the boys paid no attention. All got on board the _Snapper_, and in a moment more the craft was out in the middle of the cove.
“Don’t you try to make any trouble for me!” shouted Giles Faswig. “I simply found that boat adrift and brought her in here for safety.”
“And I don’t believe a word you say,” answered Snap. “I think you visited our camp and stole the boat.”
“And that is what I think,” added Whopper.
A wordy war followed lasting fully ten minutes. It was plainly to be seen that Giles Faswig and his companions were much disturbed, thinking the boys would make trouble for them. At last the young hunters rowed away and went back to their own camp. It was now growing quite light.
“Did you ever hear of such meanness,” was Snap’s comment. “They meant to keep our boat hidden until we had left this vicinity. Then maybe, they’d cast it adrift and say they had nothing to do with taking her.”
“Well, we found out how mean they were last year, so it is nothing new,” said Shep. “You were lucky to locate the craft.”
“It was all through that boy,” returned Whopper. “I pity him if he has Giles Faswig for an uncle.”
“I think the best we can do is to leave Lake Cameron at once,” said Giant. “We don’t want to run into that crowd again.”
The others agreed, and by eight o’clock that morning the tent was taken down and stored away and the journey to Firefly Lake was begun.
It was a clear, warm day, with bright sunshine overhead. The woods were full of birds that sang sweetly, and being so near to nature’s heart, the young hunters soon forgot their troubles.
The stream leading from Lake Cameron to Firefly Lake was a tortuous and rocky one, and more overgrown with bushes than it had been the summer previous. At one point the spring freshets had rolled in a number of big stones and these the boys had to roll out of the way before the rowboat could get through. Not wishing to damage the _Snapper_, they proceeded with care, so by dinner time less than half the distance to the smaller body of water was covered.
“We won’t get to Firefly Lake until to-night,” said Snap. “But who cares? We have plenty of time.”
All were hungry for a taste of roast duck, and so they stopped off long enough to cook a fine dinner. For dessert they had some blackberries which they chanced to find growing near the watercourse, and they stopped so long over their midday meal that it was after two o’clock before the journey was resumed.
“Do you remember the awful windstorm we once struck up here?” queried Shep, as they rowed along.
“Will we ever forget it,” cried Whopper. “Gosh! I thought I was going to be blown into the next century! Say, did I ever tell you how it blew my socks inside out?” he added, with a grin.
“Hardly,” answered Giant, and laughed.
“Fact, and the next morning I had to turn my shoes inside out to accommodate the socks,” finished Whopper. “Yes, that was a wind to remember.”
“Hurrah, Whopper is coming to his own!” cried Snap. “Whopper, what would you do if you couldn’t tell stories now and then?”
“Why, I’d—” began Whopper, and then leaped to his feet. “Well, I never! Give me a gun, quick! There’s a bear!”
CHAPTER XIV
DELAYED BY A STORM
“A Bear!”
“Where is he?”
“Let me get my gun!”
Such were some of the exclamations uttered after Whopper made his declaration that he had seen a bear. In the meantime the youth who loved to tell big stories had caught up his shotgun and was aiming it to the right of the watercourse, where there were several big rocks overgrown with brushwood. He took aim and blazed away. A grunt followed, and then came a thrashing in the bushes, growing fainter and fainter in the distance.
“You hit him!” ejaculated Snap.
“Yes, but he is running away for all he’s worth,” answered Whopper, disappointedly.
By this time every one of the young hunters had his firearm. The boat was turned to the bank of the creek, and then each youth looked at the others. Not a trace of the bear was to be seen anywhere.
“No use of going after him,” said the doctor’s son. “More than likely he’s half a mile away by this time and he’ll be so shy he won’t let us get anywhere near him.”
“If only we could have gotten a shot at him!” said Giant, wistfully. “Think of bringing a bear down first lick!” And his eyes glistened.
“We might have crawled up on him, only I thought he saw us,” explained Whopper. “That’s the reason I called for my gun.”
“I guess he kind of scared you,” said Snap.
“Well, I admit I was startled. I didn’t think we’d find a bear along here—I thought they hung up in the mountains.”
“They may come down to gather some stuff that grows in this water,” answered Snap. “They love to eat certain roots, so Jed Sanborn told me, and sometimes they travel a long distance to get them.”
After a little more talk the journey was resumed, and nothing out of the ordinary came to their notice until late in the afternoon. Then Shep, who was in the bow looking forward, held up his hand for silence.
“What is it?” whispered Giant, who was next to him.
“Some small animals squatting on yonder rocks,” replied the doctor’s son. “I don’t know what they are.”
The young hunters stopped rowing and took up their shotguns with care. They allowed the boat to drift behind a screen of bushes on the side of the watercourse. Then they looked through the bushes with care.
“I know what they are—muskrats,” whispered Giant.
“I see two of them,” added Shep. He raised his gun and Giant did the same. Bang! bang! went both pieces, one directly after the other. The muskrats gave a leap upward and fell with a splash into the stream.
“We hit them, that’s certain,” said the doctor’s son. “But they may get away.”
Eagerly the boys rowed up to the spot where the muskrats had sat. Around the rocks the clear water was churned up into mud. But on the surface floated the two bodies of the creatures.
“I don’t know what we are going to do with them,” said Snap. “The skins are not very good this time of year.”
“I couldn’t resist bringing one of ’em down,” said Shep.
“Just the way I felt,” added Giant.
They continued on their way, and a few minutes later came to something of a cleared spot along the watercourse. Here Snap leaped up, shotgun in hand.
“Here’s our chance, fellows!” he whispered. “All together.”
He pointed to some low trees beyond the clearing. The branches were thick with quail. All understood and took up their firearms.
“I’ll shoot high, Shep can shoot low, Giant to the left and Whopper to the right,” commanded the leader of the club. “All ready?”
“Yes,” was the low answer, and the four weapons went off almost as one piece. There was a great fluttering in the trees and five quail were seen to drop. Then two others flew around in a fashion that told plainly they were seriously wounded.
“Come on, we must get them!” cried Giant, and leaped forward. As the two wounded birds flew close together he blazed away a second time, and the game dropped like a stone. The rest of the quail were now out of sight.
“Seven quail!” cried Snap, enthusiastically. “I don’t call that half bad.”
“I call it very good,” declared the doctor’s son. “To-morrow we can have quail on toast.”
“Where are you going to get the toast?” questioned Whopper.
“Well, we’ll have quail on crackers then,” put in Giant.
Stowing the quail away in the bow of the boat, they went on through the gathering darkness. The sun had gone down over the hills in the west, casting long shadows across the little watercourse.
“It will be pretty dark by the time we reach Firefly Lake,” said Snap, and he was right. It was cloudy too, and a stiff breeze from the east had begun to blow.
“We’ll have to take care how we pitch our tent to-night,” was Whopper’s comment. “Unless I miss my guess, we’ll have rain by to-morrow morning.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” cried Giant. “I don’t want it to rain yet.”
“It won’t hold off for you or anybody else,” returned Snap. “Whopper is right, we must stake our tent well and allow for the water to run off—if rain does come.”
When they at last rounded the final turn and swept into Firefly Lake it was so dark they could see little or nothing ahead. But they remembered the locality and had little trouble in reaching a spot where they had camped once before. But the snows of the previous winter had played sad havoc with the fireplace they had built, and they had to build a fire in the open. While Whopper and Giant prepared a substantial supper Snap and Shep put up the tent, on a bit of high ground. Around the tent they dug a small trench, to carry off the water, should it storm.
“We want to make sure that our boat doesn’t get away from us again to-night,” said Whopper.
“Here is a cove—we can haul her up in that,” said Snap, and this was done, and the craft was tied fast to two trees.
Having had but little sleep the night before, all the young hunters were tired out, and it was not long after getting supper that they crawled into the tent and went to sleep. On account of the wind they did not dare to leave the campfire burning, for they knew only too well how easy it is to set a forest on fire through such carelessness.
At about two o’clock in the morning Giant awoke, to find the rain coming down steadily on the tent. He crawled to the front of the shelter and looked out. All was pitch dark, and, somehow, the prospect made him shiver. The wind had gone down, and only the fall of the rain broke the stillness.
“This is lonely enough for anybody, I guess,” he mused, and crawled back to his corners. “Shouldn’t wonder if we have to stay in came tomorrow. But I don’t care—it will give us all a chance to rest up.”
He struck a match, to see how the others were faring, and as he gazed around he saw a small stream of water coming in through a hole in the tent. The stream was falling close to Whopper’s head. Just then Whopper turned and the stream took him directly in the ear.
“Wh—wow!” spluttered Whopper, awakening and squirming around. “What’s the matter here? Has Niagara Falls broke loose, or who’s playing the hose on me?”
The noise aroused the others, and all sat up. By this time the match had gone out, but Giant promptly struck another and then lit the camp lantern. Whopper gazed at the hole in the tent ruefully.
“That’s too bad,” said Snap. “We’ll have to mend that, the first chance we get.”
“We can’t mend it to-night,” answered Shep.
Gracious! Just listen to it rain!
The boys sat up for quite awhile listening to the rain, but presently they grew tired again and one after another dropped off to sleep. Whopper found a dry spot next to Giant; and thus they rested until daylight.
It was certainly a dismal outlook that confronted them when they arose for the day. The rain was coming down steadily, and no dry firewood was to be had with which to cook breakfast.
“We should have put some wood in the tent,” said Snap. “We’ll know better next time.”
It took a deal of coaxing to start a blaze, but once it got going to keep it up was easy. They took their time, for traveling in such a storm was out of the question. The meal over, they washed up the dishes, and then huddled down in the tent once more.
“This is the only drawback to camp life,” said Snap, with a sigh. “A storm knocks everything endways. But there is no help for it, and a fellow must take the bitter with the sweet.”
The storm continued all day, and the only thing the lads did was to fish. At this they were very successful, and a fine supper of fresh lake trout put them in much better humor. They put in a peaceful night, and the next morning, the storm having cleared away, they set off for Lake Narsac.
CHAPTER XV
LOST IN THE SWAMP
“This is certainly a wilderness!”
It was Snap who uttered the words, as he stood in the bow of the rowboat, taking in the scene before him. They had left Firefly Lake five miles behind them and were on the winding stream leading to Lake Narsac. On one side of the watercourse were rough rocks and on the other a tangled mass of underbrush, backed up by rocks and tall cedars.
“A fellow could never make his way through such a woods as that,” said Whopper, nodding in the direction of the forest. “Why, you’d tear your clothing all to pieces!”
“I can tell you one thing,” put in Shep. “I think there must be plenty of game up here—if only one can get to it.”
They had taken turns at rowing and poling the craft along. For the most part the poling was better than rowing, for the stream was too full of rocks to admit the free use of oars. Twice they had bumped on the projections under water, once with such violence that Giant, who had been standing at the time, had almost gone overboard. Once they had to carry craft and outfit around a sharp bend. The boat had started to leak a little, but not enough to cause anxiety.
Noon found them encamped on a point of land where the stream appeared to divide into two parts, one running to the northeast and the other to the northwest. Which branch to take to get to Lake Narsac they did not know.
“This is a fine how-do-you-do!” was Whopper’s comment. “I wish we had questioned Jed Sanborn about it.”
“From what I thought he said I imagined there was but one stream leading to the lake,” said the doctor’s son.
“Perhaps there is, Shep; but which is the one?”
“Don’t ask me. One looks as good as the other.”
“On the map Lake Narsac is to the northwest of Firefly Lake,” came from Giant. “Consequently I should say that we ought to take the stream flowing in that direction.”
“That sounds reasonable,” answered Snap, and the others nodded.
Coming along the watercourse they had managed to shoot several quail, of the sort known by many as partridge, and also some other birds. Shep had likewise brought down two squirrels. They had scared up several rabbits, but these had gotten away in the underbrush.
“Let us take a good rest before we go further,” said Shep, while he was eating. “There is no use of our killing ourselves with rowing when we are only out for fun.”
The others agreed, and as a consequence they took a nap after the meal and did not get started again until three o’clock.
They soon found the stream they were on broad but shallow, and felt sure it would lead to the lake. They kept on steadily until six o’clock, and then came to a halt at a point where the watercourse narrowed and ran between a series of jagged rocks.
“We ought to be getting to the lake pretty soon,” was Snap’s comment. “Jed Sanborn told me we could make the trip from Firefly Lake in a day if we didn’t fool along the way.”
“Well, don’t forget that we stopped for a nap,” answered Whopper. “Perhaps we’ll get there before it gets dark.”
Having passed the rocks, they found the stream broadening out once more. The bottom was now muddy, and here and there grew large clumps of reeds and cattails.
“This seems to be more of a swamp than a lake,” was the comment of the doctor’s son. “From what Jed Sanborn said I thought it was a narrow stream all the way to the lake.”
“So did I,” added Giant. “I begin to feel that we have made a mistake.”
“If we have, you’re to blame,” grumbled Whopper.
“Oh, you were willing enough to come this direction,” answered Giant sharply. “If we are wrong, you needn’t blame me.”
“It’s your fault!”
“Oh, don’t quarrel about it,” interposed Snap. “We were all willing to come this way. If we have made a mistake—” He did not finish.
“Don’t croak until you are sure we are mistaken,” said Shep.
A silence followed, and they moved on, the stream growing broader as they advanced. It was a lonely spot, and as it grew darker the loneliness seemed to increase. On all sides were the immense trees and dense brushwood, while the stream was dotted with little islands, covered with reeds and rushes and small, thorny bushes.
The sun had gone down, and as the darkness increased the boys looked at each other wonderingly. This was not at all what they had expected.
“If this is Narsac Lake I don’t want to stay here,” remarked Shep. “Why, it can’t hold a candle to Cameron or Firefly.”
“No wonder nobody comes here,” grumbled Whopper. “It’s nothing but a swamp.”
“This can’t be Lake Narsac,” answered Snap. “Don’t you remember what we heard—that it is a very deep lake, set right in among the mountains. We have made a mistake.”
“I see something ahead,” said Giant, who was standing in the bow. “It looks to me like a signboard. Let us row up to it.”
“A signboard is just what we want,” said Snap, and took up the oars. Soon they reached the board, which was nailed to a post set on one of the reedy islands. The board read as follows:
Hooper’s Pond S. Hooper, Owner No campingers allowe
“Hooper’s Pond!” cried Snap. “We certainly have made a mistake!”
“‘No campingers allowed,'” read the doctor’s son. “His spelling and grammar are not very strong but he knows what he means.”
“Well, we don’t want to camp here,” said Whopper in disgust. “Mr. S. Hooper can keep his pond to himself and welcome.”
“I think we’ll have to camp here for to-night,” said Shep. “We can’t go back to where we took lunch with darkness coming on. And I am hungry, too.”
They were all hungry and tired, and after a brief talk decided to remain at the pond over night and in the morning retrace their way to where the stream had forked.
“Shall we camp on one of the islands, or on the shore?” questioned Shep.
“The main thing is to find some dry spot,” answered Snap. “To me all the ground around here looks spongy and wet.”
They tried several of the islands, but found them soft and uncertain, and so rowed over to the shore on the west. Here was a little hill, covered with dewberries, and having cleared a spot, they erected their tent and built a campfire.
“If Mr. S. Hooper is around he may chase us away,” said Snap. “But we’ll take the chance of his not being in this vicinity.”
The swamp was full of flies and mosquitoes, and they were glad enough to keep near the fire, to get rid of the pests. After the cooking was done they built a smudge, of wet reeds, and this helped to keep the insects away. But it was not a cheerful spot and when the boys went to bed all felt depressed.
Snap was the first up in the morning, and while he was getting breakfast ready, Giant took his shotgun and went off in quest of game.
“There ought to be plenty of wild fowl around a swamp like this,” said the small member of the club. “I am going to see what I can bring down before we leave.”
“If you bring down much you’ll have Mr. S. Hooper in your wool,” answered Snap.
“I don’t believe he is around. And, another thing, I didn’t see any fences.”
“Nor I. I guess you are safe in bringing down whatever you can hit. But don’t stay out too long.”
Giant walked to the other side of the little hill and then along a cove of the big swamp. Far ahead he saw some birds, resting close to the water’s edge. He felt they might be quail or perhaps some wild turkeys.
The ground was anything but firm, and Giant soon had to leap from one dry patch to another. He was half tempted to turn back, but now he was almost within gun-shot of the game and he hated to give up the quest.
“I’ll go back a bit from the water and come around on the other side,” he reasoned. Then he took to another course, only to find, presently, that it was worse than the first. He was now between clumps of reeds, and almost before he knew it one of the clumps turned over on him, sending him into the water and mud up to his knees.
“Gracious! this won’t do!” he muttered, and tried to turn back. He found the water and mud very treacherous, and in a few seconds he went down again, this time to his waist. His feet were in the mud so firmly that he could scarcely budge them. He let out a cry for help. Then the mud below the surface commenced to sink, and in a few minutes poor Giant was up to his armpits. What to do he did not know, and it looked as if he would surely be drowned.
CHAPTER XVI
THE RESCUE OF GIANT
Snap had the breakfast well underway when Shep came out of the tent.
“Hello, you’re at it early,” remarked the doctor’s son. “Why didn’t you call me and I would have helped you.”
“Oh, I didn’t want to disturb you, Shep, you were snoozing so comfortably.”
“Where is Giant?”
“Gone off to see if he can get some game before we leave.”
“Do you want me to help with breakfast? If you don’t, I’ll try for some game myself.”
“Go ahead—only come back when I whistle,” answered the leader of the club.
The doctor’s son was soon on his way, with his shotgun trailing in his hand. He, too, crossed the little hill as Giant had done. Hardly had he done this than he caught sight of a wild turkey and let drive, bringing the game down some distance ahead of him.
“Now I am going to have some fun getting that turkey,” he told himself, as he surveyed the mud and water before him.
It was no light task to bring in the game, and the doctor’s son got both feet wet. But the turkey was a gobbler and of good size, and he was very proud when he had the game over his shoulder in true sportsman’s style.
“Guess I’ll go on a little further and see if I can stir up anything else,” he thought. “If game is plentiful around here maybe it will pay us to stay for a day or two after all.”
He trudged on, and had just caught sight of what looked like some wild ducks when a cry reached his ears. At first he imagined it came from behind him, and thought it might be Snap calling him to breakfast, but then he concluded it came from in front.
“Must be Giant,” he told himself. “What can he want?”
“Help! help me!” came presently, in a fainter voice.
“It is Giant, and he is in trouble!” burst from Shep’s lips, and then, without waiting, he gave a loud whistle, repeated several times. This was the old signal among the young hunters that assistance was wanted immediately.
Shep broke into a run, or rather a series of hops, for he hopped from one bunch of reeds to another, until he came close to where Giant was struggling in the water and mud. The small member of the club was now almost up to his chin and trying with might and main to pull himself from the treacherous mass that held him a prisoner.
“What’s the matter, can’t you get out?” asked the doctor’s son.
“N—no!” gasped Giant. “Th—the mu—mud is li—like g-g-glue!”
Much alarmed, Shep looked around for something with which to aid his chum. Nothing was at hand, but not far off he saw a small sapling growing. He made towards it, and by a supreme effort pulled the sapling up by the roots. Then he ran back and threw the top of the little tree towards the unfortunate young hunter.
“Got hold?”
“Yes.”
Shep began to pull, and after a mighty effort succeeded in raising Giant several inches out of the sticky mud. But try his best, he could not budge the small lad further.
“It’s no go!” he gasped. “I am going down myself!”
“Do—don’t le—leave me, Shep!”
“Leave you? Not much, Giant! I’ll get you out somehow. But I’ll have to try some other way.”
While the doctor’s son was looking around for some other means to employ in the rescue, a shout was heard, and Snap came running up, followed by Whopper.
“What’s the matter?”
“How did Giant get in that hole?”
“I don’t know how he got in, but we must get him out,” returned Shep. “Can you fellows help pull on this tree?
“Wait, here is a small rope,” said Snap. “I picked it up as I left camp, thinking it might be needed. We can tie that to the tree end and stand further back.”
The rope was speedily adjusted, and then the three young hunters were able to brace their feet on ground that was fairly firm.
“Now, hold tight, Giant!” sang out Shep.
“I’ll hold as ti—tight as I ca—can,” was the gasped-out answer, for the small youth was all but exhausted by his struggles.
The others began a steady and strong pull, and inch by inch Giant came up out of the sticky mud. To make his hold firmer he twined his arms around the slender branches of the sapling.
“He’s coming!” cried Snap. “Now then, one more haul and we’ll have him out!”
“Or broken in two,” panted Whopper.
The final pull was given, and with a sucking sound and a splash the small member of the club came to the top of the water. He fell on the sapling and the others dragged him to a spot where it was comparatively safe. Then he got up and looked at himself ruefully. He was plastered with mud from his waist down.
“Never mind—be thankful that you’re out,” said Shep.
“I—I am thankful,” was Giant’s answer. “Bu—but I don’t want any o—of S. Hooper’s mud. He ca—can have it all himself!” And this was said so dolefully that all the others had to roar.
When they got back to the camp Giant told how he had chanced to get into the mud. He was thankful that Shep had come along just in the nick of time, and thankful that the others had come also. Luckily he had a change of garments with him, and he lost no time, when he was rested, in putting on clean clothes and in washing out those which were soiled.
“After this I am going to be careful where I walk,” he said, while he was eating his breakfast.
“It puts me in mind of the time you and I got in the snow hole, last winter,” said Whopper, referring to an incident related in detail in “_Guns and Snowshoes_.”
“Yes, and I was just as lucky to get out,” answered Giant.
After an hour’s rest, and a good breakfast, Giant declared himself as strong as ever. The tent was packed, and soon the young hunters were on their way from Hooper’s Pond.
“I hope we don’t make any more false turns,” observed Snap, as they rowed and poled their way along. “I am getting a bit anxious to see Lake Narsac.”
So were the others, and that noon they allowed themselves only half an hour for lunch. During that time some of the boys went fishing in the stream and were lucky enough to catch some trout and several suckers. Once Whopper got a strong pull, but it only proved to be a mud turtle, much to his disgust.
“Thought I had a ten-pound fish,” he said.
The middle of the afternoon found them on a clear, deep stream, which broadened out constantly as they advanced. This made them certain that they were nearing Lake Narsac, and they were correspondingly elated. At one point in the stream they came to a beautiful island, with elderberry bushes lining the shore and a patch of trees in the center. As they drew closer they saw several rabbits and squirrels, but did not get a chance to shoot the game.
“If we run short of food we can come here,” observed Snap. “That game can’t get away from the island.”
“Shall we stop off now?” asked Whopper. “We’ll be sure to get something.”
“No! no! Let us go on!” cried Giant. “We want to make Lake Narsac by to-night, if we can possibly do it.”
The others agreed with Giant, and they kept on until the long shadows over the mountain to the westward told them that night was again approaching.
“Looks as if we’d have to camp in the woods along this river,” said the doctor’s son.
“Oh, let us keep on until it is really dark,” replied Giant.
“I’d like to see Lake Narsac, I must confess,” answered Snap. “But even if we get there inside of the next hour we won’t be able to see much.”
Nevertheless, they kept on, until it was really dark. Then, by mutual consent, they drew up to the bank of the stream, leaped from the boat and stretched their limbs.
“We may be less than a mile from the lake, and we may be five times that distance,” said the leader of the club. “I suppose the best thing to do is to camp where we are.”
So it was decided, and once more the tent was hauled forth, and preparations were made to start a campfire. Whopper and Snap went to cut the wood. They had just stepped into the bushes when Shep and Giant heard several wild cries.
“A snake!”
“A dozen of them! This is a regular nest! Run, they are after us!”
And then both boys came running out of the bushes with all possible speed.
CHAPTER XVII
ON LAKE NARSAC AT LAST
It was true, they had struck a regular nest of snakes, and in less than a minute the camp seemed to be fairly overrun with the reptiles, which were from a foot to three feet in length.
Now, if there was one thing which the young hunters hated worse than anything else, it was a snake, and consequently there was a lively rush to get out of the way of the reptiles. The snakes were dark brown in color, with lighter stripes, and what variety the young hunters did not know. They might be poisonous, and the youths did not care to run any chances.
The snakes seemed to be fearless, and the fact that several were speedily killed did not daunt them. Whopper cut one in two with his hatchet and Snap crushed another with his heel. Then, as they came close to the tent, Shep hit a third with a saucepan and Giant kicked a fourth into the water. But by this time at least thirty snakes were in sight, and not knowing what else to do, the young hunters ran for the rowboat and tumbled into that. One snake went with Whopper, twined around his foot, but that youth kicked it loose and sent it squirming into the water.
“Did you ever see the like!” gasped Giant. “Why, the woods must be full of snakes!”
“We must be close to Lake Narsac,” answered Snap. “Don’t you remember what they said about snakes being plentiful?”
“If they are as plentiful as all this I want to go right back,” declared Whopper firmly. And then he looked up his trouser legs, to make certain no reptiles had gone above his ankles. The other boys were also busy, scanning the rowboat, to clear it of possible visitors.
The craft was tied to the shore but had drifted several feet from the bank. They had rushed away so quickly that all of their firearms were in or near the tent, which was but partly raised, one end flapping idly in the faint breeze that was blowing. The campfire had been started with a few dry twigs and cedar boughs and cast only a faint gleam around in the gathering darkness.
“I didn’t know snakes could be so active in the dark,” observed the doctor’s son.
“We stepped right into their nest,” answered Snap. “First Whopper went into it and then I followed. That is what made the snakes so mad and made them come right after us.”
“Some of them have gone into the tent,” cried Giant. “I just saw three of them wriggle under the canvas.”
“And to think all the guns ar ashore!” murmured Whopper. “What are we to do?”
“Walk ashore and get them,” suggested Snap, with a wink.
“Not for a million dollars! You do it.”
“Thank you, but I—er—I’m lame.”
“I guess we are all too lame to go ashore among those snakes,” said Giant, with a short laugh. “But we have got to do something,” he added, seriously.
“I move we remain on the boat until morning,” said Shep. “Even if we clear out some of the snakes now, we may not be able to get at all of them. And who wants to go to sleep with snakes around? Not I!”
“I couldn’t sleep if I tried,” said Whopper. “I’d be seeing all kinds of snakes in my dreams!” And he shuddered.
Fortunately they had cooked some extra fish that noon and this food had not been taken from the boat. They dined on the fish and some crackers, and that was all. By this time it was night and the tiny campfire was a mere glow of hot ashes.
“We might try the other side of the stream,” suggested Snap.
“There may be snakes there too,” said Giant. “You can do as you please, I am going to stay on the boat until daylight.”
“But what are you going to do when you get to the lake? We must camp somewhere?”
“We’ll hunt up a snakeless place in the broad daylight. The snakes can’t be everywhere.”
There seemed to be no help for it, and having anchored the rowboat in the middle of the stream, the young hunters proceeded to make themselves as comfortable as possible on board. They had the rubber cloth, and this they propped up on half-raised oars, making a sort of awning. They had to rest on the hard seats, with boxes and bundles between, and it was anything but comfortable. They were so close together Giant said it reminded him of sardines in a tin box. A sound sleep was out of the question, and they slumbered only by fits and starts.
“Now to clear out those snakes,” said Snap, when it was daylight. “I wonder what we had best do first?”
“I have an idea,” said Shep. “Let us go to yonder shore and cut some cedar boughs. We can set them on fire and each take one. Snakes hate fire, and they’ll be sure to crawl away if we advance with the burning boughs close to the ground.”
The suggestion was deemed an excellent one, and they lost no time in carrying it out. They got the driest cedar branches possible and set them into a blaze with little trouble. Then they went ashore with caution, advancing in a semi-circle on the places they thought the snakes must be.
To their amazement not a reptile was in sight! “Did you ever see the like?” ejaculated Whopper. “Is this true, or am I dreaming?”
“I know what has happened,” said Snap. “The snakes have simply gone back to their nest.”
“Well, leave them there by all means!” interposed the doctor’s son. “I wouldn’t disturb their nap for the world.”
With caution they moved around the camp, and lifted up the ends of the tent, and raised their cooking utensils.
“Who wants to stay here for breakfast?” asked Snap, dryly. “Don’t all speak at once.”
“Thanks, but I’ve engaged a place about a mile from here,” answered Whopper. “You can stay if you wish—I’ll move on.”
It did not take them long to get their things aboard the _Snapper_, and keeping their eyes open, they moved along the stream. They had scarcely covered half a mile when Snap, who was at the bow, gave a shout.
“The lake! The lake!”
“Where?” came from the others.
“Right around the bend, on the left. Pull on, fellows, and we’ll soon be there.”
Whopper and Shep bent to the oars and the turn mentioned was soon passed. Then all saw before them a clear, deep body of water, the farther end lost in the distance. On both sides were tall mountains, covered with pines and other trees which came down to the water’s edge. The surface of the big lake was as smooth as glass, and just in front of them they could see the bottom, twenty or thirty feet below.
“What a beautiful lake!” murmured Shep.
“But how wild, and how lonely!” added Giant, after a look around.
“It looks lonely because we are not used to it,” answered Snap. “I felt the same way the first time I went up to Lake Cameron and to Firefly Lake.”
“That’s it,” put in Whopper. “After we have tramped along the shore, and rowed around the lake a few times, it will lose a good deal of its strangeness.”
As they advanced they noted that the lake grew deeper and they could no more see the bottom. But the water was as clear as crystal and quite cold, showing that the water came, at least in part, from springs.
“I see a little stretch of sand,” said Giant, presently, and pointed it out. “We might go ashore there for breakfast—if there are no snakes.”
They turned the _Snapper_ in the direction mentioned, and soon beached the craft. A hasty hunt around revealed no snakes and the young hunters felt easier. They made a campfire and cooked a substantial breakfast, for the meager supper the evening previous had left them tremendously hungry.
“I feel sleepy enough to take a good snooze,” said Shep, stretching himself. “What’s the matter with staying here for to-day, and then hunting a regular camping spot to-morrow? I guess you fellows are as tired as I am.”
They were tired and the proposal to rest met with instant approval. It was decided to roast the wild turkey for dinner and to spend several hours in fishing,—all after a sleep of several hours.
“There ought to be some fine pickerel in this lake,” said Snap, and he fixed his rod and line for that specimen of the finny tribe and Giant did the same. Shep and Whopper went in for whatever they could catch. The fishing was highly successful and the boys soon had all the fish they would want for several days.
“Might as well give It up,” said Snap, when a call from Whopper interrupted him.
“Somebody is coming down the lake,” was the announcement. “A very old man in a canoe.”
CHAPTER XVIII
THE OLD HERMIT’S TALE
All of the young hunters watched the approach of the old man with interest. He was a very tall individual, with snow-white hair and a flowing beard. He was dressed in a suit of rusty black, and on his head he wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, with a big hole in the top. His canoe was of birch bark, light and strong, and he propelled it with a short, broad paddle.
“I’ll wager he is a character,” said Snap, as the man drew closer.
“Shall I hail him?” questioned Whopper, as it looked as if the occupant of the canoe was going to pass without speaking.
“Might as well,” was the answer, and the boys set up a shout. At first the old man paid no attention, but presently he turned his craft toward shore and came to a halt directly in front of the camp.
“How are you?” said Snap, cordially. A look told him the Stranger was at least seventy or eighty years old.
“Pretty well, for an old man,” was the answer. “Who are you?”
“We are four boys from Fairview. We came up here to go camping. Who are you?”
“Me? Don’t you know who I am? I am Peter Peterson.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the boys. They remembered having once heard Jed Sanborn speak of Peter Peterson as an old fellow who lived among the hills bordering Lake Cameron. Peterson was a hermit, and having been crossed in love when he was a young man, he hated the sight of a woman.
“My name is Charley Dodge,” said Snap. “My father owns a share in the Barnaby saw mill.” And then the leader of the club introduced his chums. In the meantime the old hermit allowed his canoe to drift to shore and he stepped out and sat down on a rock.
“I know your father,” he said to Snap, “and I know your folks,” and he nodded to Shep. “Your father gave me some medicine when I was sick. So you came up here to go camping?”
“Yes.”
“You are pretty brave lads to do that.”
“Oh, we’ve been out camping before. We came out last summer and also last winter.”
“Up here?”
“No, to Lake Cameron and Firefly Lake.”
“That’s different from Lake Narsac. Don’t you know this place is haunted?” And Peter Peterson looked at the boys very solemnly.
“We’ve heard something about that, but we aren’t afraid,” said Shep.
“We are more afraid of snakes than we are of ghosts,” added Whopper. “We met a lot of them just before we reached the lake.”
“To be sure you did,— the river is full of them, and so is the north side of the lake shore—anybody who has camped up here can tell you that. But I don’t mind the snakes—but I do mind ghosts.” And the old hermit shook his head in a manner to prove he meant what he said. “I would stay up here to do some fishing and hunting only—“
“Only what?” asked Giant.
“I don’t like the ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you may call them.”
“Have you seen any ghosts?” asked Snap.
“Well, I’ve seen something, and heard it, too. I don’t know what it was,—but it didn’t suit me,” answered Peter Peterson. “But maybe I hadn’t better tell you about it—it might only worry you,” he continued, thoughtfully.
But the boys wanted to hear the old man’s story, and so they invited him to take dinner with them. During the meal he told his tale, which was certainly a curious one.
“The first of it happened day before yesterday,” said Peter Peterson. “I was up to the very end of the lake, in a little cove, looking for wild turkeys. I was tired out and I rested against a tree and went into a doze. All at once I felt something cross my face. What it was I couldn’t make out. I jumped up and just them I heard somebody cry out: ‘I am dead! Who will bury me!’ or something like that. I thought somebody was fooling me, and I called back: ‘Who is there?’ Then, as true as I am sitting here, I heard somebody in the air laugh at me! I called again, ‘Who are you?’ And the party, or ghost, or whatever it was answered: ‘They murdered me! Who will bury me!’ Then I got scared and leaped into my canoe and paddled away. When I was out on the lake I looked back into the woods, but I could not see a soul.”
“Are you sure you weren’t asleep and dreamed all that?” asked Snap.
“No, I was wide awake. But that isn’t all. Early this morning I was asleep over on the shore yonder, just where you can see that blasted pine. It was, I think, about three o’clock, and quite dark. I heard a cry and I sat up to listen. Then I heard the most hideous laugh you can imagine. Then a voice called out again, ‘I am dead! Come to my grave! He is dead! I am dead! He is dead!’ Then I looked out on the lake and I saw something like a ghost, only it was yellow instead of white. It moved over the water like a spirit, and in a few minutes I couldn’t see it any more. Then I made up my mind I wouldn’t stay up here any longer. You can camp here if you want to—I am done with Lake Narsac.”
The young hunters of the lake looked at each other. What the hermit had to say coincided in many respects with the story told by Jed Sanborn. Certainly there was something queer in these strange calls, and in the appearance of the ghost or spirit in yellow.
“I must say I don’t like this,” said Shep, after they had questioned the old hermit to ascertain that his story was a straight one. “There seems to be something supernatural about it; don’t you think so?”
“Perhaps it can be explained,” answered Snap, slowly.
“We promised ourselves not to be afraid of any ghost,” put in little Giant. “I, for one, don’t believe in turning back until we have seen and heard these things for ourselves.”
“I’d like to have my shotgun handy when that yellow ghost shows itself,” said Whopper. “I’d soon find out whether it was real or not.”
“I don’t think your shotgun would do you any good,” answered Peter Peterson, with deep conviction. “You can’t shoot a spirit.”
“Well, if I aimed right at it and it wasn’t touched, I’d know it was a ghost for sure.”
“That’s true, but I reckon when you came to fire on that ghost your hand would be so shaky that you couldn’t hit the side of a barn,” answered the old hermit. “After I saw that spirit I felt like I had a chill. I am not going to stay up here another night—it’s bad enough to be here in the daytime.”
The old hermit remained with the boys two hours, and then embarked in his canoe and was soon out of sight down the stream leading to Firefly Lake. The young hunters watched him out of sight with some regret. He had told them he did not think anybody was now on the lake but themselves.
“Well, if we really are here alone we ought not to be troubled by anybody,” was Shep’s comment. “Still, it does seem tremendously lonely.”
“Just listen to the stillness,” remarked Whopper. “You can cut it out in chunks!”
“No use of listening—I can feel it,” answered Giant. “But what’s the use of acting like that?”
“You’ll give us all the blues. Let’s be cheerful,” and he began to whistle a merry tune, and one after another the others joined in. Then they started to fix up the tent for the night and cut a quantity of wood for the fire, and this put them in better spirits. For supper they had some fine fish, baking them to a turn on some hot stones, in a fashion Jed Sanborn had taught them. They also had hot biscuits—the first since leaving home.
“I think somebody ought to remain on guard after this,” said Shep, when it came time to retire.
“We don’t know what to expect in such a place as this. There are the ghosts, and the snakes, and unknown wild beasts, and other things we know nothing of.”
“I am willing,” answered Snap. “We can divide the night into watches of two hours and a half each, and draw sticks for turns,” and so it was arranged.
It must be confessed that the boys were a trifle timid that night, and those that tried to sleep had hard work to close their eyes. But no alarm came, and when the sun came up all felt relieved.
“We may stay up here for weeks and never see or hear of that ghost,” said Snap. “I don’t believe it shows itself very often.”
“Oh, I don’t suppose it appears and disappears by the clock, like a cuckoo,” said Whopper. “It will most likely lay low and scare us to death when we least expect it.”
It was the middle of the forenoon before they were ready to embark on a tour of the lake. They decided to skirt the entire shore, or at least such a portion of it as looked inviting, and then pick out a spot for a regular camp. They proceeded slowly, for there was no need to hurry and they did not wish to miss any spot that might be of especial advantage.
It was not yet noon when they turned into a little cove, bordered by low-hanging bushes. They looked ahead, and then Shep ordered the others to stop rowing.
“I just saw something, back of yonder bushes,” he whispered, excitedly. “I am not sure, but I think it was a couple of deer!”
CHAPTER XIX
A DANGEROUS DEER HUNT
“Deer!” came from the others.
“Let me get a shot at ’em,” added Whopper, excitedly. “That’s what I came for—to bring down a dozen deer or so!”
“Make it two or three dozen, Whopper,” answered Snap. “What would you do with a dozen in this warm weather?”
“Send ’em down to the poor folks of the town.”
The announcement that deer were in that vicinity thrilled all the young hunters, and they at once resolved to go ashore and see if they could not bring down the game.
“Let us go back a bit,” suggested Shep. “We don’t want this breeze to carry our scent to them. If it does, they’ll be off like a shot.”
The others knew that the doctor’s son spoke the truth, and so the _Snapper_ was turned around, and they went ashore at a point where the trees were thick. Snap carried the rifle and the others had their shotguns, and all looked to the firearms to be sure they were in condition for immediate use. With great care the four boys started to stalk the deer, as it is called. Snap led the way, and never was an Indian hunter more careful of his steps. He knew that the deer’s ears were wide open for any unusual sound and even the cracking of a dry stick would attract their attention.
The journey over the rocks and through the timber was a laborious one. In some spots the undergrowth was so thick that further progress seemed, at first, impossible. Once Giant got caught so completely that the others had to help him free himself. Hardly a word was uttered, and then only in the faintest of whispers.
At last Snap felt they must be close to where Shep had seen the game, and he motioned for the doctor’s son to take the lead.
“You saw ’em—you ought to have first chance at ’em,” he whispered.
“I want you all to fire,” was the reply.
An instant later came a faint sound ahead, and looking through the trees, the four boy hunters saw three deer walking swiftly along. One was a beautiful doe not more than half grown.
“There is our chance!” cried Shep, excitedly. “Now then, all together!”
Snap wanted to know what animal he was to fire at, but got no chance to ask, for just then one of the deer raised its head and sniffed the air suspiciously. Then the two large ones began to run with the doe at their heels.
Crack! bang! went the rifle and shotguns, as the young hunters took hasty aim. When the smoke cleared away they saw the doe stretched on the ground and one of the deer limping forward painfully. The other deer was out of sight.
“Come on—we can get that wounded one!” cried Whopper, and ran forward with might and main.
As it happened the wounded deer was the mother of the doe, and the wound, and the loss of its offspring, made the animal savage. As Whopper turned towards it, the deer suddenly made for the boy.
“Look out!” yelled Snap, but before Whopper could turn aside the deer was on him and had knocked him to the ground. Then the deer struck out with its hoofs, landing on Whopper’s shoulder and cheek.
It was a moment of extreme peril, for there could be no doubt but that the deer meant to kill the young hunter. Shep raised his shotgun to fire, but was afraid to do so for fear of hitting Whopper, who was trying to rise.
“He’ll be killed!” shrieked Giant, but just then Snap, using his rifle as a club, struck the mother deer in the side. The creature rolled over.
Bang! went Giant’s shotgun, and the report of Shep’s firearm followed. The deer struggled for a moment, then gave a final kick and expired.