Read Boy Scouts on Belgian Battlefields Page 23


  CHAPTER XXIII.

  THE FROG HUNTERS.

  "That settles me, I guess!" said Tubby sadly, as he followed Rob intothe shelter of the brush nearby, from which haven of refuge they mightwatch to see what chances there were of the big camp, a mile and moreaway, being broken up.

  "I know what you're thinking about, Tubby," Merritt told him; "that noneof us has had any breakfast, and the outlook for dinner is about astough as it could be."

  "Yes," admitted the fat scout, "I feel just like kicking myself, becauseI didn't think of doing it when I had the chance."

  "Doing what?" asked Merritt.

  "Getting that good-natured old fellow at the inn to put us up somelunch," was the explanation Tubby offered. "I guess he'd have done it,too, because he thought we deserved being taken care of, after hearingwhat the wounded Belgian soldiers had to tell about us. Oh! it's ashame how all my great thoughts come afterward. What's the use oflocking the stable door when the horse has been stolen?"

  "Well, cheer up," said Rob, who, of course, had overheard what was beingsaid; "it may not be a case of starving."

  "See here, you don't happen to have a lot of stuff hidden away on yourperson, do you, Rob?" gasped Tubby hopefully; and, as the other shookhis head, he continued in a mournful tone, "I thought that would be toogood to be true. But please tell us what you mean by saying it mightn'tbe so very serious. Mebbe you know of a henroost nearby, where we mightfind a tough old Dominick fowl that had been overlooked by the raidersquads from the camp?"

  "If I did I'd tell you, Tubby; but wait a bit, while we watch the camp.If nothing happens inside of two hours, I've got a sort of scheme topropose to you both, and I hope it'll meet with your approbation."

  "Two hours! Two long, weary hours! Gee!" And, as Tubby said this, heproceeded to take in some of the slack of his waistband, possiblymeaning to show Rob how terribly he had fallen away of late.

  They could see that myriads of men were moving about on the levelstretch of country where the invaders were encamped. Fires were going,and doubtless those excellent camp ovens, of which so much had beenwritten, were being used to bake fresh bread for the day. Those Germansomitted nothing that would provide for the comfort of the enlisted men.

  "It looks as though they meant to stay there all day," remarked Rob,when they had been observing these things for at least a full hour.

  "Oh! Rob!" protested Tubby helplessly, as though the information gavehim a severe pain.

  "Well, they believe in drilling right up to the minute they go intobattle," was what Merritt remarked; "for there you can see a wholeregiment of them marching in review past the commander, with othersfollowing behind."

  "It's a wonderful sight," admitted Rob. "I never saw soldiers keep step,and seem to be such parts of a machine like that. You'd think they weremoved by some network of wires, like a big automatic engine."

  "Oh! look what funny steps that first line is practicing!" cried Tubby."Why, they must be only boys, and just playing soldiers. See how theylift their feet, and go along like a high-stepper of a horse. Ain't thatthe limit, now?"

  "I tell you what that must be," said Rob, quickly. "I've read about whatthey call the 'goose-step.' It's a flinging up of each leg, as the stepis taken, bending the knee, instead of keeping it stiff, like mostsoldiers on parade do."

  "The silly nonsense!" laughed Tubby. "What would I look like trying thatfancy step? I thought the Kaiser had more sense than that."

  "Hold on. Don't condemn a thing before you know what it's meant for,"said Rob. "There's an object, and a mighty good one, about that step,even if it does make most people smile when they see it for the firsttime."

  "Then let's hear what it is, please, Rob."

  "As far as I know about it, the object is to strengthen the muscles ofthe leg, and give those that are tired from a set position a rest. Don'tyou see how that sort of a movement relieves the leg? Try it a fewtimes, and you'll believe me."

  "Have you ever seen the goose-step before, Rob?" asked Merritt.

  "Only once, in a moving-picture play of the German maneuvers," he wastold. "It struck me then as ridiculous; but I knew those German militarymen had long heads, and would not start a thing like that in a paradewithout something big back of it. So, when I got home I tried it a fewtimes, and then I saw what a splendid relief that throwing forward ofthe foot was. There goes another line doing it."

  They continued to crouch--there was small possibility of any onediscovering them--and watched all that was going on in the busy campbeyond.

  Not once did any of the soldiers wander away. It was plainly evidentthat they were being given no liberties. Rob only hoped that the orderwould come for this corps to get on the move, and head to the southwest;for he did not doubt but they were meaning to go to Ghent, or to someother place toward the coast.

  Several times Tubby was observed to crane his neck and look up towardthe heavens anxiously. The others did not need to be told what thosesigns indicated. They knew very well that the fat chum had not becomesuddenly interested in astronomy, or expected an eclipse of the sun tohappen. He was merely noting how far along his morning journey the skyking had traveled, because he could not forget how Rob had set a timelimit on their remaining there.

  Two hours he had mentioned as the sum total of their stay; when thatboundary had been reached Rob was going to make some sort of pleasingproposition. Tubby hoped it would have to do with the procuring of acertain nourishment, of which all of them certainly stood in great need.

  At last Rob gave signs of making a move.

  "Now, if you fellows will come back along the road a little ways withme," he announced with a smile, "I've got something to propose. I onlyhope you fall in with my views, for then there's a chance that we'llhave something to eat."

  "Oh! you can count on me agreeing with you, Rob!" said Tubbycheerfully. "No matter whether it's fur, fin, or feather, I think Icould do justice to nearly anything that grows."

  "As it happens, it's something that doesn't fly or walk that I have inmy mind," Rob declared rather mysteriously. "The fact is, it hops!"

  "Now you have got me worse balled up than ever," protested Tubby, hisbrow wrinkled with his endeavor to guess the answer.

  "I think I know," volunteered Merritt, grinning amicably.

  "What does he mean, then? Please hurry and tell me," pleaded Tubby.

  "Frogs, isn't it, Rob?" demanded the other.

  "Oh! gingersnaps and popguns! Do I have to come down to choosing betweeneating jumpers and starving to death?" complained the fat boy, lookingdistressed.

  "Well, wait till you get your first taste, that's all," Rob told him."If you don't say it beats anything you ever took between your teeth,I'm mistaken, and that's all there is about it. Why, they're reckonedone of the fanciest dishes in all the high-class clubs in America, alongwith diamond-back terrapin, canvas-back duck, and such things. The onlything I'm afraid about is that after you get your first taste you'llwant to hog the whole supply."

  "But how shall we catch the frogs, and then cook them?" asked Merritt.

  "The first ought to be easy," replied Rob, "seeing how plentiful theyare, and how big and tame. I see a dandy piece of wood that would make agood bow with a piece of stout cord I've got in my pocket. Merritt, getsome of those straight little canes, growing on the edge of the water.We can make them do for arrows, and, even without feathers, I think Ican hit a big frog with one at ten paces away. It'll be fun as well as aprofitable business. Frog-hunters, get busy now."

  "Here's a long pole, Rob. Shall I take it and steal up close enough towhack a few of the jumpers on the head?" asked Tubby, now entering intothe spirit of the game.

  Being given permission, and warned not to make too big a noise, lest hefrighten all the frogs into jumping, he set about his task. Afterseveral failures he finally brought one monstrous greenback frog towhere the others were still working.

  "I'll show you how to cut off the saddle, and skin the hind legs," saidRob.

  Tubby di
d not altogether like this job. The slimy feeling of the frograther went against his stomach. Still, after the large hind legs hadbeen duly skinned, they presented so much the appearance of the whitemeat of a spring chicken that Tubby felt encouraged enough to set forthagain.

  He had four victims by the time Rob and Merritt pronounced the bow andarrow part of the business in readiness for work.

  They kept at it steadily for an hour and more. Rob found considerableexcitement and profit in his archery. His arrows could not be whollydepended on, for they were not properly balanced; but the distance wasso short that he made numerous fatal shots.

  Merritt, too, had secured another long pole, and joined Tubby in hisshare of the frog hunt. It was exciting enough, and with more or lessdelicious little thrills connected with it. No doubt the frogs musthave enjoyed it immensely; but then, no one bothered asking what theythought of such tactics. A boy's hunger _must_ be allayed, and, if therewere only frogs handy, why so much the worse for the "hoppers."

  "Whew! Don't you think we've got enough, Rob?" asked Tubby, unable tostand it any longer.

  "What's the score?" asked the archer, as he tossed still another greatbig victim toward the spot where the fat scout had been counting thepile.

  "Twenty-one, all told," replied Tubby. "That would mean seven for each.But how in the world can we cook them? I hope now you don't mean totackle them raw? I love raw oysters, but I'd draw the line at frogs. I'mno cannibal."

  "Well, let's find a place deeper in the woods, where we can make a fireout of selected dry wood that will make so little smoke it can't benoticed. That's an old Indian trick, you know. Hunters used to practiceit away back in the time of Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton. When theywere in a hostile country they had to be mighty careful about making asmoke. I've tried it before, and believe I can pick out the right kindof fuel to use."

  While the others were finishing the not very pleasant work of skinningthe numerous frog saddles, Rob busied himself with making the fire in asecluded neck of the woods. In the midst of jutting stones he soon had ablaze going. It could not be seen twenty feet away, on account of theobstructions; and, as the proper kind of wood had been selected, therewas no smoke to mention.

  The boys would have given something for their well-remembered fryingpan, just at that time, and some pieces of salt pork with which tosweeten the dainty morsels which were to constitute their luncheon. Theywere true scouts, however, and could make the best of a bad bargain.

  "All hunters do not have skillets when they're in the woods," said Rob,as he took a long splinter he had prepared, thrust it into one of thesaddles, and then, poking the other end into the ground close to thefire, allowed the meat to get the benefit of the heat. "We must do whatwe can in this old-fashioned way. The best sauce, after all, is hunger;and, from the look on Tubby's face, I reckon he's fairly wild to set histeeth in the first of the feast."

  Pretty soon it was a lively scene, with all those forks having to beattended to. A tempting odor also began to rise up that made Tubby'smouth fairly water. He heaved many a sigh, as he waited for Rob to tellhim that the first of his allotment was sufficiently browned to bedevoured.

  "Now, let's begin," said Rob finally. "Only look out not to burn yourlips. And, Tubby, take my word for it, you're going to get the treat ofyour life!"