CHAPTER VIII
THE WAY TO FISH FOR BULL FROGS
Here was a pretty how-dye-do; Dolph going innocently back to thecranberry bog to pick up a dinner of frogs’ legs, and being chased by asavage old bear!
Somebody did get a move on, as Dolph had pleaded for them to do;everybody did, in fact; for Teddy dropped whatever he was doing,snatched up a gun, and put out as fast as he could run; while Amos,forgetting all about the chances of his fire going out just when itneeded the most attention, followed close in the footsteps of his campmate, also armed with a deadly weapon.
There was not the slightest difficulty in locating the scene ofoperations. The continued whoops of Dolph did that all right for them.
All at once the yells ceased, as if by magic, and a fear gripped thewould-be rescuers that they were, alas, too late to be of help. Thenthey heard what sounded like a hysterical laugh, followed by theexclamation:
“Well, I’ll be hanged, if that ain’t a good one on me!”
That was Dolph’s well known voice; there could not be the slightestdoubt about it; and to judge from the fact of his actually uttering asort of laugh, it seemed as though Bruin could not have eaten him up,as yet. Both gallant rescuers felt vastly encouraged, and emboldened topush right on.
Breaking through a fringe of bushes they were just in time to catcha last glimpse of a badly rattled black bear, putting for all he wasworth into the adjacent scrubbery, and never looking back once toascertain whether or not he was being pursued by the object that had sothoroughly frightened him.
Dolph was standing there, panting heavily, and yet shaking all over atthe same time, either with nervousness, or an inclination to laugh athis late scare, possibly both.
“He’s vamosed, has he?” queried Teddy, drily, though both he and Amoswere conscious of feeling a broad grin creeping over their respectivefaces.
“Why, yes, seems like he has,” replied Dolph, heaving a deep sigh ofrelief, “and I’m right glad of it. Honest to goodness, fellows, hemade straight at me, and had on his fighting face to boot. I thoughtit was a she bear with cubs; and you know they’re always ready for ascrap. That’s why I whooped it up like I did. I was a little bothered,I admit; yes, considerably so, if you will have it. Because, you see, Icouldn’t very well stand off a ferocious bear with one little fishingrod, could I? What if he’d grabbed that red ibis fly, was I to tryand play him? Not much. All I knew just then was that I had a veryimportant engagement in the next county. And while I was trying mybest to keep it, I thought it my duty to send you fellows warning, soyou wouldn’t be scared when he bobbed in on you. And I couldn’t seemto make up my mind which tree I wanted to climb, either; not that itmattered much, because black bears climb like monkeys. But anyway,whatever do you think made him take after me like that?”
“Mebbe he thought you wanted to steal some of his pets, the frogs,”suggested Amos, pleasantly.
“Rather say he wanted to give you a try in a wrestle; these black bearshave got a hug that will crack a man’s ribs, if you let ’em get theright hold,” was what Teddy advanced as his theory, but with a twinklein his eye that plainly proclaimed that he was joking.
“Seriously, now, Teddy, what do you think made him chase after me so? Ihadn’t bothered him, thrown sticks at him, or even said ‘boo!’ when hestarted straight toward me on the jump, making the queerest sounds youever heard.”
“Well, if you want my honest, unadulterated opinion,” said Teddy,“here it is, I happen to know this same cranberry bog. It’s surroundedon nearly every side by swampy ground, where you heard those bigfrogs tuning their bass notes. In fact, right here is the only way ofreaching the bog dry-shod. A sort of natural causeway leads to it,so to speak. Now, Mr. Bear knew that as well as I do. He had usedthat same many a time in the past. When he saw you, he was scared,and wanted to get away the worst kind. You happened to be blockinghis passage, and so he had to gallop toward you. He was grunting infright, that’s what caused him to make those queer sounds. Perhaps hehoped to squeeze past you. But one thing sure, Dolph, while you had ascare, that poor bear was the worse rattled of the two. Right now he iscongratulating himself on having got off with his life!”
“There might be another around, because bears often hunt in couples?”suggested Dolph.
“Wouldn’t be surprised; and I reckon there goes all our hopes of frogs’legs for dinner tonight,” remarked Teddy, dejectedly.
“Well, I guess not,” said the other, with a compression of his lips, “Isee you snatched up my gun in your hurry. Let me have it. I’ll keep ithandy, and then I don’t care a hang for all the old bears in Michigan.Who’s afraid? Go back to your jobs, fellows, and many thanks for savingmy precious life.”
Laughing at his merry mood, Teddy and Amos did turn about, the latterrunning back, for fear lest his newly-started fire might have sufferedduring his short absence.
Dolph walked on into the cranberry marsh. He found that the ground wasfairly covered with the plants, and that an abundant crop of berriesseemed assured for the coming fall. Already in many instances theywere taking on a pinkish tinge, although they would hardly be fit forpicking before the first frost.
But a mere glance around was enough for Dolph just then. As he hadsaid, a cranberry bog was not a new sight to him, though this chancedto be the first wild uncultivated one he had ever gazed upon.
Just now he had other fish to fry. Those big deep-toned bull-frogs hadopened up again, and were loudly accusing each other of having had“more rum” than was good for them.
Dolph knew just how to go about it, and was presently having “more funthan a circus,” as he called it. But evidently the frogs did not enjoythe picnic so much as the fisherman; but then, whoever considers whatthe feelings of the submerged half is, when in quest of food?
Discovering just where a monster was squatted on the bank, utteringsounds like the lowing of a bull, Dolph would creep up behind him,until he could glimpse his intended quarry. Then he would elevate hisstiff rod, and allow that flaming bunch of red feathers to descend infront of the creature’s nose. There would be a start, the bull-frogcould be seen to half crouch down, after the manner of a sly cat, andthen he would jump up at the tempting lure, which, of course, the poorsilly thing believed to be the finest moth it had ever seen. After thatit was ludicrous in one way to see how badly he wanted to let go, andcouldn’t. But Dolph wasted no more time, and quickly put an end to theacrobatic stunts of the hooked frog.
Then he would go on to the next serenader, whose song might prove justas much a symbol of his approaching end as that which the swan is saidto give vent to, when death draws near.
So it went on, and the load Dolph was carrying kept on getting heavier;while his visions of a treat in the way of frogs’ legs for supper keptadvancing with each new capture.
When Teddy blew the conch shell as a signal that lunch was ready, thecoffee having boiled sufficiently, on counting his prizes, Dolph foundthat he had just fourteen, almost five apiece.
He came staggering into camp with his load, to be greeted with muchclapping of hands, and all sorts of suggestive gestures, which werecalculated to tell what pleasure the other two anticipated from theresults of his raid on the frog preserves guarded by that bear.
After they had eaten their noon meal, Dolph busied himself in preparingthe catch. Of course he lacked some of the dexterity of the man in theFrench market, who can take off the saddles in such wonderfully fasttime; but then Dolph manipulated his hunting knife with good results,and in the end the load to be carried had diminished considerably.
“Fourteen splendid saddles,” declared the pleased frog fisherman, ashe gazed down at his catch. “And we’ll have the finest dinner tonighteither of you ever set your teeth into; I give you my word on that.Just wait, and get good and hungry. You can have your fill for once.”
“How do you cook the blooming things?” asked Teddy, looking a littledubiously at the array of double hind-legs spread out, in what Dolphconsidered a most tempting way.
“You see, I never yet have tried one,though Amos here says he has, many a time. But they do look kind ofnice and clean, just like chicken breast.”
“You’ll say they are like the most tender spring chicken you ever saw,”remarked Dolph. “Of course, there is a suspicion of fish about them,so you must remember that it’s frogs you’re having. How do I cook ’em?Why, exactly like we do trout. Sizzle out some salt pork, and haveplenty of the grease, and piping hot. Then wet your frog legs, and rollthem in the cracker crumbs. If you haven’t any, corn meal would answer.After that, just let them get as pretty a brown all over as you can;and then start in for a grand time. That’s all. Just hold your horses,and see. You’ll never hear an old granddaddy frog tuning up again,without smacking your lips, and looking around for something to spearhim with.”
After a while the cruisers of the Upper Peninsula once more started upthe Manistique. The current was getting somewhat less strong now, andhence they did not have to fight quite so hard in order to shove theircraft against it.
The time passed as usual. Now they indulged in an exchange ofpleasantries, with more or less laughter, that sprang from boyishhearts not yet burdened with the cares and responsibilities of life.Then again they would sing some popular ditty, all of them having fairvoices, that seemed to blend splendidly; for Teddy had a high tenor,Amos a baritone, while Dolph could come in with a pretty fair articleof bass that added harmony to the whole, though he would never ventureit alone.
The sun was now more than half way down its regular afternoon routetoward the western horizon.
“We must be getting somewhere near there,” Dolph suggested, as he goton his knees, to change the swing of his stroke, but more because hefelt dreadfully cramped sitting in one position so long.
“I was just thinking that way myself, and if I remember the lay ofthings at all, we ought to glimpse the lake inside of the next tenminutes. How about that, Amos?”
“I think the same way,” replied the woods boy, nodding his head, andsmiling.
“For one, then, I won’t be sorry,” declared Dolph, frankly. “My back’sas humped as an old man’s seventy years old; and one of my legs hasgone to sleep so hard I’m afraid it never will wake up again.”
“Oh! well, then I suppose Amos and myself will have to cook thosefrogs’ legs, and make way with the entire bunch, after all,” sighedTeddy.
“Wow! don’t you believe it!” exclaimed Dolph. “Why, honest, I can feela quiver in my dead leg right away. I’m good for my share, and I’mgoing to cook ’em too, just you make sure of that, my hearty.”
“There’s the lake!” cried Amos at that interesting juncture, and Dolphwas so excited by the news that he tried to stand up in the canoe,spreading his feet so as to steady the frail craft, and came neartaking a header over the side, as one of his legs refused to bear hisweight; but all the same he managed to shout:
“It is, for a fact. Three cheers for a camp on Manistique Lake!”