Read The Boy Patrol on Guard Page 11


  CHAPTER XI--A Lesson In Trailing

  "Halt!" The Boy Scouts were tramping forward, chatting and laughing andpaying less attention than at first to the varieties of trees whichconstantly appeared before them. It was true, as Uncle Elk had seen,that they were a wee bit tired of imbibing knowledge, and disposed tothink of the home of the old man which they knew could not be far off.At the sound of his crisp command, the party halted and lookedexpectantly at him. On his part, he calmly surveyed the array of brightfaces as if the sight gave him rare pleasure, as it undoubtedly did.Pausing for a moment, he said, addressing the whole body:

  "I wish you to separate and start on a hunt, each for himself. You mustnot go more than a hundred yards in any direction from where I amstanding. Within that area you are to make diligent search for the trailof some animal of the woods that has passed within the last twenty-fourhours."

  "Is that _all_?" asked Mike loftily.

  "No; it will not be enough to discover his tracks, but you must tell mehis name and some of his peculiarities."

  "Suppose the spalpeen hasn't got any name?" suggested Mike.

  "There is no such creature, my lad; to the one who first succeeds Ishall give a handsome prize."

  There could be no mistaking this direct challenge. The boys looked atone another for a moment and then fell apart as energetically as if asmoking bomb had dropped among them. They were more anxious to win acompliment from their Instructor than to gain anything in the nature ofa prize. They had formed not only a deep respect but a real affectionfor the man; due to his lovable disposition and in a slight degree tothe mystery which overshadowed his life.

  Had you been a spectator of the picture, you would have thought somevaluable jewel or treasure had been lost among the leaves, and every ladwas the owner of the same. Never did two score bright eyes scan theground more closely; the boys seemed oblivious of everything else in theworld, and as the minutes passed their earnestness grew tense.

  Uncle Elk nodded to Scout Master Hall, and the two sat down on a broad,flat boulder and watched proceedings. When they spoke to each other itwas in guarded undertones. That there was a vein of waggery in the oldgentleman's makeup was proved by the fact that the Scout Master seemedto be trying hard to repress his merriment over certain remarks whichUncle Elk took pains that no one should overhear. Now and then when oneof the boys looked at the couple, Mr. Hall's face assumed a suddengravity which vanished the instant the lad's attention returned to thetask before him. The Instructor easily hid his emotions, since his heavybeard served as a curtain, but his amusement was as great as that of theyounger man. In fact, the Scout Master more than once heard a distinctchuckle.

  It will be understood that the problem before the scouts was not only ahard one but it grew harder as the search progressed. They could nothelp disturbing the leaves as they passed to and fro, no matter howcareful they were, and this disturbance increased each minute, becausethe diameter of the space was no more than two hundred yards. It wasinteresting to observe the care used by each boy not to "jump thereservation." Every now and then, one of them would stop his work, raisehis head and locate his comrades. Rather than run the risk of wanderingtoo far, he would edge nearer to the two men seated on the boulder andwatching his actions.

  Several times a lad uttered an exclamation, believing he had caughtsight of the footprints of some denizen of the woods. Instantly, severalran to him and joined in the scrutiny, but in each instance the beliefof success became doubtful, finally vanished and the hunt went on asbefore. Upon many the conviction gradually forced itself that they hadessayed that which was impossible.

  It was natural perhaps that the attention of the couple on the bouldershould center upon Mike Murphy, who was the most ardent searcher of themall. He examined the ground near the spectators, but soon shifted to theperiphery, as it may be called, of the big circle. With his buckthorn inhand, he poked among the leaves, so rumpling and overturning them thathe would have obscured all the footprints that at first were visible.Unlike the others, Mike made visual search through the branches of thetrees. After studying the ground for a while, he would straighten up andpeer here and there among the limbs, as if certain that the answer tothe problem would there reveal itself.

  "I've an idea," he said to himself, "that it's a grizzly bear or a bigtiger that is prowling round, and scrooching among the leaves. If heshould drop down on me shoulder and begin clawing me head, it would beas bad as when Terry Googan had the coort house fall on top ofhim--whisht!"

  Mike was thrilled at the moment by the discovery of that which hebelieved was the lost trail. Suppressing his emotions, he first madecertain that none of the scouts was looking at him. He was vastlyrelieved to note that all were so absorbed in their own work that forthe time they were oblivious. He did not glance in the direction of thetwo spectators on the boulder, for they were "out of it."

  Devoting several minutes to a closer study of a depression near adecayed stump, Mike poked the leaves gently apart with his cane. Then hechortled, and turning about sauntered indifferently toward his friends,swinging his cane as if it were a swagger stick, and humming softly tohimself.

  "By the way," remarked Scout Master Hall, as he and his friend heard thesoft musical notes, "Alvin and Chester tell me that Mike is gifted witha marvelous voice. A prima donna on the steamer was so impressed by itthat she offered to educate him for the operatic stage, but Mike won'tthink of such a thing."

  "Have you ever heard him sing?"

  "No, but I intend soon to do so. He is modest with his gift, but isalways ready to oblige. He seems to have learned something."

  Mike had ceased his humming, and halting a few paces in front of the twomade a quick half salute. The Scout Master's face became serious and themanner of Uncle Elk could not have been graver.

  "Have you come to make your report, Michael?" he asked.

  "I hev, sorr."

  "I hope you have been successful."

  "I hev, sorr; I've found the futprints of the cratur that is trying tosteal into the camp and ate us all up."

  "That's fine; but remember you must tell me what kind of a wild animalit is."

  "I'm prepared to do the same."

  "Well, Mr. Hall and I are listening."

  "It's an elephant."

  Noting the start of the two, Mike made haste to add:

  "I knowed it would astonish ye, but I'm as sartin, as was me mither'ssecond cousin whin he was accused of being the meanest man in sivencounties."

  "What reason have you for thinking the creature is an elephant?"

  "The futprint is the biggest iver made; the elephant is the biggestanimal that roams these woods; _therefore_ the track is that of one ofthem craturs."

  "Your logic is ingenious, Michael, but you do not produce the elephant."

  "I've an idea that he's hiding somewhere in the branches of the trees,"was the imperturbable reply of the Irish youth, who glanced up among thenearest limbs as if he expected to see the giant quadruped lurkingthere.

  "Mike," interposed Scout Master Hall, "the elephant is not found in thiscountry; you have made a mistake."

  "Why, there isn't a traveling circus that doesn't have a half dozen moreor less of 'em; what's to prevint one from bidding good bye to hisfrinds and starting out to have a shindy with a lot of Boy Scouts?"

  By this time, it dawned upon the two men that the whole thing was a jeston the part of Mike. Convinced that neither he nor his companions couldfind the trail for which they had been searching, he yielded to hiswaggish propensity, as fully aware of the absurdity of his words as werethose to whom he submitted his theory.

  The fact that the three persons by the boulder were discussing someinteresting question had been observed by the other lads, who beganstrolling in that direction. Uncle Elk and Mr. Hall kept their seats andlooked smilingly up into the expectant faces.

  "I am afraid," said the Instructor sighing as if with disappointment,"that you have not been successful in your search."
r />   The unanimous nodding of heads answered his query.

  "Shall I tell you why you failed?"

  The same response followed.

  "It is because you have been hunting for something which doesn't exist;there is no animal's trail within a hundred yards of this spot."

  Scout Master Hall made no further effort to restrain his merriment. Heturned partly on one side and laughed till he nearly fell off theboulder. Uncle Elk's shoulders bobbed up and down and from behind thethicket of snow white whiskers issued sounds such as are made by watergurgling from the mouth of a bottle. The scouts like sensible ladsenjoyed the joke none the less because they were the victims. Theyslapped one another on the shoulder, several flung up their hats andshouted, and two of them gave a fine imitation of a Scotchman dancingthe Highland Fling.

  As might be expected, Mike Murphy was the first to regain his wits. Thetempest of jollity had hardly passed, when he said:

  "It minds me of the time when I was snoring on board the launch_Deerfut_, draaming of watermelons and praties, whin a spalpeen, withoutasking me permission, picked me up and flung me overboard where thewater was 'leven miles deep and I had niver swum a stroke in me life."

  "Did you drown?" asked Isaac Rothstein in pretended dismay.

  "I s'pose I oughter done so, but I changed me mind and swum to shore."

  (You will recall that, incredible as this may sound, it is preciselywhat occurred.)

  "I don't see the similarity between that incident and this," remarkedChester Haynes.

  "For the raison that there isn't any, which is why I call it to mind.Don't ye obsarve that ye have been looking fur that which isn't, asUncle Elk has explained, and which is the same in me own case? Thestoopidity of some folks is scand'lous, as Mickey Shaughnessy said whinhis taycher expicted him to know how much two and two make whin the sameare added togither."

  "Well, boys," spoke up the Instructor as he rose to his feet, "there's atime for all things. We have had our jest and now must get down tobusiness again. I suspect you know a little more about our native treesthan you did when we left the bungalow, and you may digest that whichyou have swallowed. As the expression goes, the incident is closed. Mynext requirement is that you shall join forces and start a fire."

  The request was so simple that the boys suspected the old man wasindulging in another bit of pleasantry, noting which he added:

  "I am in earnest; I wish you to unite your skill and kindle a blazeright in front of the boulder where Mr. Hall and I have been sitting."

  Gerald Hume of the Eagle Patrol laughed. "Nothing can be easier. All wehave to do is to gather some dry leaves, pine cones and twigs, and touchthem off with a match. We are allowed to use no more than two matches,and in a case like this one ought to be enough."

  "A condition that I insist upon is that you shall not employ even asingle match."