Read Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods; Or, The New Test for the Silver Fox Patrol Page 10


  CHAPTER X.

  BARE-FACED ROBBERY IN THE MAINE WOODS.

  Three men were bending over the dead deer, and all of them carriedrifles. They were a rough-looking set, all told; and any one would knowat a glance that they could not be city sportsmen, up here in the Mainewoods on a hunt; but must belong to the native class of guides, loggers,or possibly something worse.

  One of them was in truth a giant; and as soon as Thad set eyes on thisindividual he knew that his worst fears were about to be realized. Thiscould be no other than the big poacher, Old Cale Martin, the man whomthe game wardens seemed to dread like poison, and had never yet daredarrest, though his breaking of the laws had become notorious all throughthat section where he roamed.

  Despite his sensation of acute alarm, Thad surveyed the man with more orless interest and curiosity. He had heard so much about his doings thathe would have actually felt a certain degree of disappointment had hegone away from Maine and never met Cale Martin.

  Then, what Jim Hasty had told him, added to his desire to look upon theface of Little Lina's awful father.

  No doubt Step Hen must also have jumped at some sort of right conclusionwith regard to the identity of the three men. The unusual size of theleader was quite enough in itself to tell who they must be.

  Thad did not halt long upon sighting the others, but walked forward.Even though poachers, this did not mean that the three men weredesperate outlaws by any means. No doubt they walked in and out of thevillages in this extreme northern section of the State, and were greetedby those who knew them as fellow guides, though seldom were any of thememployed in such a capacity nowadays.

  Step Hen tagged at the heels of his chum. He did not know what Thadmight be going to do; but although white of face just then, with asudden fear of trouble, at least Step Hen showed no sign of runningaway.

  The three men looked up as the boys approached. All of them seemed to begrinning, as though amused. But while the big man really looked somewhatas a mastiff might appear to a little terrier, his two companions had asneer on their dark, evil faces that gave Thad more or less uneasiness.

  He knew that while Step Hen was entitled to that fine buck, the chanceswere his claim would never be considered for a single minute. Might maderight in the Maine woods, with men of this stamp.

  "Hullo! younkers, lookin' arter yer deer, hey?" remarked the giant, asthe boys boldly approached. "Wall, they hain't any, d'ye see? We got afine leetle buck here as Si fetched down with his big bore cannon; onlyfur him the deer's been in ther next county afore now, eh, Si?" and thegiant as he said this, turned on the man who wore the greasy suit ofbuckskin, and sported a coonskin cap, after the style of the old-timehunters, now so nearly extinct.

  "That's right, Cale, he'd a ben agoin' like two-forty yet, on'y for theounce of lead I throwed into him on the jump. I guess as haow thatleetle pepper box jest tickled him a mite, an' made him feel frisky.Step right up, an' take a look at _my_ buck, ef so be yeou wanter,strangers; I hain't begrudgin' yeou that much conserlation; but doan'tyeou be sayin' yeou had any hand in knockin' him over, 'cause I don'tstand fur any foolishness, see?"

  He looked particularly ugly when saying this last, and Thad knew therewas not the slightest shadow of a chance that they would get justicefrom these fellows. Seeing the sadly wounded deer plunging blindlytoward them, Si had fired at the animal, and now they claimed to own theprize!

  Well, there was no use trying to make a fuss over it; two boys couldhardly expect to overawe three such hardened woods' rangers as these.Nevertheless, for his own satisfaction Thad accepted the rude invitationof Si Kedge to advance closer, so that he could stand over the deer.

  Something caught his eye as he looked, and bending down he deftly tookthe object from the motionless body of the deer, just back of theshoulder, where a patch of blood appeared.

  Thad held the object up so that all could see. Even Step Hen recognizedit as the mushroomed bullet that had been fired from his rifle. Theevidence was as positive and clear as noonday; for that bullet, afterspreading out, had bored completely through the body of the buck, andwas ready to drop from the other side when it caught the sharp eye ofThad. And that other wound in the neck must have been where the boastedlarge calibre bullet from Si's big gun had gone, producing only asuperficial hurt that would not have seriously inconvenienced the sturdybuck.

  "Oh! that's my bullet!" exclaimed Step Hen, hardly comprehending what astorm his words might bring about their ears; "and just as you said,Thad, I hit him in the side where his heart lies. That would have killedhim in a short time, I just guess, don't you, Thad?"

  But Thad did not make any answer. He was keeping his eyes on the threemen, even while dropping the spread-out bullet into his pocket to showit to Eli and Jim and Allan when they returned to camp, as proof thatthe glory of killing the fine six-pronged buck really belonged to StepHen.

  The giant actually gave a little chuckle. Evidently he admired the nerveshown by this half-grown lad; for like most big men Cale Martin could onoccasion, exhibit a sense of generosity toward those smaller thanhimself.

  With just that brief chance to see what the three poachers looked like,Thad was able to size them up along different lines. He believed that Siand Ed were both shallow brained bullies, with revengeful natures; butthat Cale Martin, while known as a desperate man, was really more sothrough his association with such rascals as these, than for any othercause. And Thad chanced to know just why he had doubly earned thisreputation for ugliness during the last year or so; Jim Hasty's runningaway with his little girl, Lina, had been the last straw that broke thecamel's back; since it had made Old Cale feel reckless, and as though hecared no longer for anything in this world.

  "What d'ye think of that, Si," burst out the other fellow, who had notspoken, up to now; "the pesky critter is aclaimin' as how his friendsent that bullet through ther buck's ribs, w'en we all know 'twar fromyer gun."

  The shorter poacher gritted his teeth, and looked daggers at Thad. Heeven made a significant movement with his heavy rifle, which the boy sawwas of the repeating pattern, and had the hammer raised at that moment.

  "I doan't stand for any sech talk ez that," he declared, with savageenergy; "an' ef ther cubs knows what is good fur 'em, they'll turn tail,an' mosey outen this here region some quick. Scat naow! an' be mightykeerful haow yeou start tew claimin' a deer agin, what another man shot.It's sumpin that ain't goin' ter be allowed up here in the woods. Igives yeou fair warnin' tew change base, an' clar out."

  "Come on, Thad, let's move along!" exclaimed Step Hen, who was white inthe face, and trembling more or less.

  Of course, the patrol leader was far too smart to think of trying todefy that ugly lot. At the same time Thad showed no sign of fear as heturned and gave the bully of the woods one sneering look, as thoughplainly telling him what he thought. Indeed, it seemed to stir the ireof the man who claimed to have killed the deer, for with a snort, hestarted to throw up his gun, as if bent on threatening mischief, unlessthe boys ran in a hurry.

  But it was the hand of the giant that grasped the gun, and turned itaside.

  "Don't ye try it, Si," roared Old Cale. "We done enuff as 'tis, atakin'ther game away from 'em, without layin' a hand on ther hides. But ye'dbetter skip out, as Si sez, younkers. An' say, wile I think o' it, jesttell thet sneak, Jim Hasty, fur me, thet I'm agoin' ter keep my word'bout them ears o' his'n. I'll larn him what it means ter defy Old CaleMartin."

  For the life of him Thad could not help making some sort of reply tothis.

  "I'll carry your message, just as you say," he went on; "but let me tellyou right here and now, you never made a bigger mistake in your lifewhen you call Jim Hasty a sneak or a coward. Would a coward dare come uphere, when he knew how you hated him, and had it in for him? I guess notmuch. Fact is, Jim's got a message for you; somebody's sent him up here!And he meant to hunt you up, and see you face to face. A coward! Well, Iguess not."

  And without giving the giant a chance to say another word Thad wheele
d,striding away, with the nervous Step Hen at his side, casting many ananxious glance back over his shoulder, as though not quite convincedthat the warlike Si might not think it best after all to shoot afterthem.

  But ten minutes later, and the two boys were well away from the spotwhich had come very near looking upon a tragedy.

  "How do you feel about it now?" asked Thad.

  "What do you mean?" inquired the other. "I'm as sore as can be aboutlosing my lovely six-pronged buck, and knocked over all by myself, too.Wouldn't I just like to give it to that low-down liar of a Si Kedge,though, for saying that was his bullet, when anybody could see that itcame from my rifle? Why, he only pinked the deer in the neck, because Icould see the mark. Oh! the thieves, the miserable skunks, to cheat meout of my prize! I'll never, never get over this, Thad!"

  "Oh! yes you will, Step Hen," remarked the other, soothingly, for hefelt that the bare-faced robbery had been a terrible shock to hiscompanion. "But what I meant when I asked that, was, do you want to headtoward camp now; have you had enough hunting for to-day?"

  "Now, I know you're saying that, Thad, just to let me down easy,"declared the other. "I acknowledge that I was beginning to get tired, upto the time I killed that deer; but it's all passed away now. Theexcitement did it for me; and I've got my second wind."

  "Then you want to keep on hunting?" asked the scoutmaster, feeling thatStep Hen was exhibiting considerable grit under the circumstances, anddelighted to see this same brought out by the ill turn fortune had givenhim.

  "Sure I do," instantly replied the other. "I'm just wild to get anotherchance to knock over a six-pronged buck; and now that I know the ropes,it's easy as falling off a log. Looks like this snow ain't agoing toamount to much, after all; and we've got pretty nearly half a day aheadof us yet. So let's keep on for a while. When I get a little tired,we'll stop to eat our snack of grub, when I can rest up, and be readyfor another hour or two. But I'm afraid my luck has turned, and we won'tsight another deer this blessed day; do you, Thad?"

  "We'll hope to, at any rate," replied the other, as he started offagain; "and it's that constant expectation of starting up game thatmakes hunting all it's cracked up to be. So come along, Step Hen; and ifwe fail to bring in our share of venison it won't be because we lay downtoo easy. Now for quiet again, remember, and keep a constant lookoutahead."