CHAPTER XII
A MOONLIGHT VISITOR
As a matter of fact, the fishing was only a pretext on Kiddie's part.They caught no fish whatever, and they were still in the middle of thelake when darkness came on.
Kiddie lingered yet longer, resting over his paddle and entertaininghis companion with talk and stories and the singing of songs. Hardlynoticed by Rube, he dipped the paddle and gradually turned the canoeround and round.
"Rube, old man," he said at length, "I've made up another scouting taskfor you. Find our landing place. Take us straight into it. You can'tsee it in this darkness, I know. You dunno where 'tis; but you've gotter navigate us into it, and without my help, see?"
Rube was not to be caught napping. He took the paddle in hand, lookedup to the stars, and made for home as truly and unerringly as evenKiddie himself could have done.
The air was hot that night, and Kiddie again preferred to sleep in theopen. And he slept very soundly.
Rube, on the contrary, found the teepee stifling, in spite of thewide-open door flap. He was restless; the mosquitoes tormented him,too. He began to envy Kiddie, lying in the cooler air. So much sothat at about two o'clock in the morning ho got free of his sleepingbag, took his revolver, and crept out into the bright moonlight.
Kiddie lay flat on his back under a cotton-wood tree, his arms foldedacross his chest, shielding his hidden eyes from the silvery light ofthe moon.
Rube's foot kicked against an unseen pannikin, making an alarmingclatter.
He looked to see if Kiddie stirred, and saw instead a movement in thetree. The branch just above Kiddie's head was swaying and a strangeblack body showed itself ominously through the trembling leaves.
Rube leant forward and became aware of a pair of large, shining, yelloweyes. Beneath them, farther back, a long, curved tail was swinging toand fro like a pendulum. The eyes were far apart, showing that theanimal which owned them was of great size--bigger, certainly, than anordinary lynx.
Rube raised his gun, deciding to shoot the beast between the eyes. Butbefore he could take aim there was a sudden quick movement in Kiddie'ssleeping-place, a sharp flash, and a loud report that was mingled witha fierce howl and a heavy thud.
Kiddie had leapt to his feet and was ready to fire a second shot at thebeast that was writhing and snarling at his feet.
"Keep back, Rube," he said calmly. "He ain't dead yet. But I've gothim. It's that black puma that came t' th' trap last night."
From where Rube Carter stood, Kiddie and the wounded puma seemed to behopelessly mixed up together in the darkness. He made a step or twoforward holding his revolver levelled, with his finger on the trigger,ready to shoot, yet hesitating, lest he should hit Kiddie.
"Keep back!" Kiddie repeated. "I've sure got him."
The puma was rolling and writhing in helplessness, snarling viciously,and now and then howling, as it tried to rise to its feet. Rube couldsee the brute's big round eyes flashing brightly at first and thenbecoming smaller and dimmer.
"Mind it don't give you a scratch with them claws," he cautioned Kiddie.
Kiddie stood back, and the moonlight fell upon the puma's sleek blackcoat.
"Biggest lion I've ever seen," remarked Rube. "I'm only wishin' it hadbin me 'stead of you as put the bullet in him."
"You can give him one right now, to finish him," said Kiddie.
"He ain't needin' another," said Rube. "Besides, 'tain't th' samething. I guessed you was sound asleep when I come outer the wigwam.Puma was lyin' along the branch right over you, gettin' ready ter dropdown on you. I reckoned your life was in danger, an' I wanted ter saveyou, see? That's what I'm allus wantin' t' do; but you never gives mea chance. How did you know the brute was thar, Kiddie? How did youhappen ter wake an' git out your gun an' shoot so mortal quick--'foreI'd time ter lift my arm an' press the trigger?"
"Well," returned Kiddie, "I dunno exactly. But I've a notion that Iknew the critter was right there long before you did, Rube. I'd heardhim crawlin' along among the bushes an' nosin' around about the traps.He was some wise, though, after his experience of last night. Hewasn't havin' any truck with them traps. He was kind of suspicious of'em, I guess, an' preferred to hunt his own food alive. So he got onter the scent of the camp an' came sneakin' right here. I've a notionhe didn't like the look of the teepee where you were sleepin'--thoughtmaybe it was another trap; no more did he find any attraction in thecamp fire. Thar was a live man, however, easy t' get at, under thisyer tree. He came t' investigate overhead, an' was lyin' along thatbranch when you oozed outer the teepee an' diverted his attention bykickin' your foot against a tin pannikin, makin' noise enough t' wakenthe seven sleepers. If I hadn't been pretty quick with my gun justthen, I guess that puma wouldn't have hesitated t' make a meal of you."
"Allus allowin' that I didn't stop him," rejoined Rube.
He watched the puma giving a final kick, and then become still andsilent.
Kiddie went nearer to the animal, seized its long tail in both handsand hauled it bodily away from under the tree.
"We'll leave him there till daylight," he decided, "an' then have aproper look at him. Meanwhile, let's quit and finish our sleep."
Daylight revealed the puma as an uncommonly fine animal, in goodcondition. Kiddie preserved the pelt, with the head and feet. He alsotook the dimensions of the carcass at various parts to help him inmodelling the body for mounting.
"I've got a pair of glass eyes that'll just suit," he told Rube."They're some light in colour, but I guess we c'n darken 'em before wefix 'em in."
On that same day they moved the camp to a different part of the forest,but still on the shores of the lake, and they remained there for aweek, trapping, shooting, fishing, and exercising their woodcraft.Then, at Rube's suggestion, they landed on a small island thicklyovergrown with pine trees. Here, however, there were very few animalsto trap, and small opportunity for scouting, although Rube did not forthat reason cease to take advantage of Kiddie's wider knowledge andskill.
They were out in the canoe fishing one afternoon. Kiddie remarked uponthe extreme clearness of the water, and told Rube to lean over and lookdown into it.
"You c'n see the bottom of the lake fathoms an' fathoms beneath us," hesaid.
"Yes," agreed Rube, peering down into the transparent depths. Heraised his head and added: "You was sayin' th' other day, Kiddie, thatno white man, an' p'r'aps no red man either, had ever lived in theseparts in ancient times."
"I said--or meant to say--that there was no visible trace of earlynative inhabitants or white settlers," Kiddie corrected.
"Well, that's good enough," resumed Rube. "I guess I've got you,anyway. Look deep down thar, an' you'll see the trunk of a tree. Itain't got 'ny branches on it. I b'lieve I c'n even make out the cutsof an axe on the end of it. How'd it come there if it wasn't hewn downby men as used edged tools?"
Kiddie was not in the least nonplussed.
"How'd it come t' be lyin' at the bottom of the lake, anyway?" hequestioned.
"Dunno," Rube answered, very much puzzled. "You mean, why ain't itafloat? Guess it's too heavy; though I can't tell just why. All woodfloats, don't it?"
"Most wood does--all that grows about here," Kiddie affirmed. "Why, doyou suppose, your men with edged tools took the trouble to cut down abig tree like that, and not make any use of so much valuable timber?"
Rube shrugged his shoulders.
"Now you're askin' me a conundrum I can't answer," he said.
"No," returned Kiddie; "because you've got hold of the wrong idea.That tree wasn't felled by any axe. It grew at the edge of the lake,where the ground was soft and moist. It was blown down in some stormor hurricane, and fell into the water. Gradually th' roots an'branches broke off, and after a long while--many years, mebbe--the baretrunk floated off. It drifted about like an iceberg or a derelictship--drifted an' drifted until it became water-logged an' so heavythat it sank t' th' bottom, where it still lies. It was just a
nordinary process of Nature."
Rube was silent for many moments.
"Thar ain't no trippin' you up, Kiddie," he said at length. "I madecertain sure I had you that time."
"Wait a bit," pursued Kiddie; "I'll show you something else." Hepaddled farther out in the lake, taking his bearings by well-rememberedlandmarks. "Now look down through the water," he instructed, whenafter many pauses, he at last drew in his paddle. "What d'ye see?"
Rube leant over and searched the depths.
"Not much," he answered. "I c'n see the bottom, sure--stones, gravel,swayin' weeds. Hold hard, though. Them stones didn't grow there.Guess they're too reg'lar. I c'n make out a ring of 'em."
"Yes," said Kiddie. "So c'n I. Some queer that they should bearranged in a circle that way, ain't it? Are you able t' figure itout?"
Rube pondered deeply, frequently looking down at the stones soprecisely placed in a ring at the bottom of the lake.
"They sure never come there on their own account, like the tree," hedecided. "Looks as if human hands had put em' that way, an' I've got aidea, Kiddie. It's just this. Centuries an' centuries ago, this yerlake wasn't a lake at all, but dry land."
"Well?" Kiddie smiled. "That's possible."
"And," continued Rube, "when it was dry land, a tribe of what you callprehistoric men lived here. They was pagans--sun worshippers, an'such. They built the stones in a circle as a kinder temple, same'sthem chaps you told me of that built Stonehenge. What? Ain't that acute idea of mine?"
"I allow th' idea's cute," conceded Kiddie. "But it ain't anexplanation. It's too far-fetched altogether, an' it contradicts thetheory that there were no inhabitants in these wildernesses all thattime ago. If you'd thought a bit longer, you might have hit upon thetrue an' very commonplace explanation. Y'see, the stones haven't evenbeen in the lake long enough to get a growth of weeds and moss on 'em.As a matter of fact, they've been there only a very few winters--sincethe time when the name 'Kiddie' was more appropriate to me than it isnow. There was a big frost; the lake was frozen over. I'd the boyishidea that it 'ld be int'restin' t' build a house on the ice. There wasno snow; stones were handier 'n timber. I carted the stones here on mysled. I built 'em in a circle. Snow came, an' I finished the buildin'with snow. You c'n sure guess the rest."
"Yes, course I can," said Rube. "When the snow an' ice melted, thestones sank straight down, an' fell to the bottom in a ring. What didI say just now, Kiddie? Thar ain't no trippin' you up or catchin' younappin'."
"I dunno if you're aware of it, Rube," resumed Kiddie, "but for thepast two or three minutes I've had the corner of my eye on a canoethat's comin' this way down the lake. Who's at the paddle? 'Tain'tGideon's way of paddlin'. 'Tain't Abe Harum. Who d'ye reckon it c'nbe?"
Rube watched the approaching canoe. It had appeared suddenly frombeyond a jutting promontory of spruce trees.
"Dunno," he answered, "don't reco'nize him. Seems like as Gid hadloaned the canoe t' a stranger. An' yet I seem t' have seen thatpinky-red shirt before, an' that straight-rimmed Stetson hat."
"Looks t' me like Sheriff Blagg," said Kiddie. "What's he want,cavortin' about on the lake searchin' for us? He's been t' our firstcampin' ground. Now he's shapin' for the island, led by ourfire-smoke."
"Looks to me like Sheriff Blagg," said Kiddie.]
Kiddie whistled a shrill, long, tremulous note. He was an uncommonlygood whistler. The sound was echoed and re-echoed from every chasm andcanyon on the far shores of the lake; it might have been heard manymiles away.
Above the island and over the forest the air was sprinkled withstartled birds; from the dark ravine of Laramie Pass a pair of eaglestook flight.
Isa Blagg drew his paddle and waved his hat. He followed Kiddie'scanoe into the little bay that was its mooring place on the fartherside of the island.
"Located you at last!" he said, as he stepped ashore. "Gid Birkenshawtold me I sh'd find you somewheres around the lake; but he didn't saynothin' 'bout your bein' camped on an island. I bin searchin' alongthe shores; found one o' your campin' grounds in among the trees,though you'd cleaned it up so's it wasn't easy ter be sure it was acampin' place at all. Guess you didn't intend anybody ter foller onyour tracks, or you'd ha' left some signs around. How do, Rube?"
He shook hands with the two trappers, and then turned to help in thework of cleaning and frying the fish for tea.
"Gee!" he exclaimed, at sight of the afternoon's catch. "Nevernotioned thar was so many fish in the whole of your lake 's all that,Kiddie! Why, they're 'most as pretty an' colourful as birds, too.Say, are they all the same breed?"
"Oh, no," Rube told him, indicating the various kinds in rotation."Them thar's pickerel, that's a bream, these are shiners, pouts, an'chivins; the others are trout an' perch. We'll cook 'em all together,though."
"Young Rube's gettin' quite a professional hand at cookin'," saidKiddie, measuring out pinches of tea. "You'll hear of him one o' thesedays takin' on the job of chef in some high-class New York hotel. He'sgot twenty-one diff'rent ways of cookin' eggs, an' as many of potatoes.You didn't happen ter bring along any eggs or potatoes, did you, Isa?Rube an' I are livin' quite simply, but I'm figuring that you'll belookin' for variety in the matter of food. You'll stay with us, won'tyou, Sheriff, until we break camp?"
Isa Blagg shook his head.
"No, Kiddie; no," he responded. "It would suit me right down t' th'dust; but it ain't possible. I'm here t' consult you on a matter o'business; an' soon's I'm through with it, I gotter quit."