CHAPTER X. THE BOB-CAT.
The morning was half gone, and they had been making pretty fair progress.
"But," said Giraffe, when Allan mentioned this fact, "if we're onlyholding our own, that means we'll never glimpse the poor old chap in aweek, 'less he just drops down from being so worn out, reduced to skinand bones, so to speak," and both he and Step Hen chuckled at thepossibility of Bumpus ever coming to such an end.
"Oh! I don't know," said Allan. "There's always a chance that you mightsight him somewhere. You see, he turns every which way. Now he's headingalmost north; and a little while back it was nearly due east. Perhaps hemay double on his tracks yet; we can't tell."
"And if he did, and happened to discover all our footprints, what d'yethink the blessed innocent would do?" asked Giraffe.
"Be scared stiff, most likely, and think Injuns must be trailing him,bound to take his scalp," laughed Step Hen.
Thad stopped for a minute's breathing spell.
"I think both of you are wrong there," he remarked, "and if Bumpus didonly happen to come on his own trail, after we'd passed along, thechances are he'd just make up his mind to sit down, and wait for us tocome around again."
"You don't say?" exclaimed Step Hen.
"How in the wide world would Bumpus ever guess it was _us_ made thetracks?" Giraffe demanded, incredulously.
"He wouldn't have to guess, because he'd know!" Thad ventured.
"You must believe that fat chum of ours is waking up, Thad? Just tell us,will you now, how he'd be so dead sure of this? We haven't been droppingour visiting cards along the way, that I saw," and Step Hen gave Giraffea sly wink.
"Well, we have, right along," Thad continued, "and unless I'm muchmistaken, Bumpus can read the signs all right. He knows what kind of animprint your shoes make, Step Hen, and how there's a bunch of nailsshaped like a star in both of your heels. Look down there, and you'llnotice them."
"Well, I'll be jiggered if there ain't!" muttered the surprised Step Hen,as if the fact was quite new to him.
"And Giraffe, he also knows that you 'toe in' with your right foot, sothat each time you step it makes a little peculiar scrape. Bend down andI'll show you, here, and here, and here. Catch on to it, now, Giraffe?"
"Well, I never knew that before; but it's a fact, Thad, I do turn thatfoot some, I admit. Tried to break off the habit lots of times, but it'sno use."
"More than that," said Thad, "look at my track, and you'll see there's amarked peculiarity that makes it different from any other. I had a pieceput on each heel, and the line shows as plain as anything. And now here'sAllan's footprint--do you see anything about that you'd be likely torecognize if you ran across it again?"
"Sure we do," burst out Giraffe. "The shoe is square at the toes, broaderthan any other. Besides that, Allan walks with his feet nearly straight,and most people turn them out some; all but those that toe-in."
"Well, you see, now, that each one of us has an individual mark,"continued the patrol leader, wishing to impress the lesson on the others.
"Yes, that's all right, Thad; but how would a tenderfoot like Bumpus knowall about these things?" persisted Giraffe.
"How do _you_ know?" demanded the leader.
"Huh! because you just told us, I guess," the tall scout admitted.
"Well, that's just the case with Bumpus," went on Thad. "Of late he'staken a remarkably deep interest in the thousand-and-one things that areopen to the eyes of a scout, if only he chooses to look around. And so,when he asked about following a trail, I showed him how to tell the marksof every scout in the patrol, himself included. And Bumpus wrote them alldown in that little notebook he carries."
"Well, if that don't beat all creation!" exclaimed Giraffe.
"Just imagine the poor boy squattin' down, to pull out his note-book, andthen say: 'There, I know Giraffe made those tracks; and that other mustbe the manly tread of my good friend, Step Hen Bingham!' I guess it's upto us to improve each shining hour, ourselves, Giraffe, like the busylittle bee. We don't want a tenderfoot like Bumpus to beat us out, dowe?"
"Not much we don't," said Giraffe.
And for three minutes the two of them were busily engaged writingdescriptions in their scout's note-book, with which every one in thepatrol was provided; stopping now and then to examine or measure one ofthe tracks.
When this operation was concluded, much to the amusement of Thad andAllan, the forward movement was again resumed.
But it seemed as though this little incident must have aroused thecuriosity and ambition of Giraffe and Step Hen, for they frequently askedquestions that had more or less bearing on trailing.
And the information which Allan was able to give, in addition to what thescoutmaster said, quite enthused both searchers after facts.
"Say, I never thought there was so much in this trackin' business," StepHen honestly admitted. "I used to believe it was pretty much of a fake,and that fellers just kind of went along, smellin' out things, like asetter or a hound would. But now I see it's a whole lot of fun; and I'mgoing in for trackin'. I am to be a champion trailer."
"Look out there, fellers!" shouted Giraffe.
They saw him swing his gun around, and almost immediately discharge theheavy rifle. All of the others hastened to get their guns in aserviceable condition, even while they were looking to see what hadhappened to excite the tall scout.
Something flashed from one tree to another, and vanished amidst the densegrowth of leaves. As this tree was close to others, the chances were thatthe animal would have little difficulty in eluding them.
"Wow! a big wildcat!" exclaimed Step Hen, in great excitement.
"Tell me, did you see his left hind leg drag _just a little_, when helanded on that limb?" asked Giraffe, eagerly.
"Oh! you aimed to take him on the left hind leg, did you?" jeered StepHen, advancing a pace in the hope of discovering the beast crouchingabove, and offering a fair target.
"I hadn't time to aim, but just shot any old way," declared the other."Fact is, I don't believe the butt of my gun was more'n half way to myshoulder when I let go. He was agoin' to jump right then, and I knew itwas hit or miss with me."
"A dangerous thing to do when it's a lynx or a bob-cat," remarked Allan,who, being a Maine boy, had had lots of experience with the fiercebeasts. "Better have let him get clean away. But I don't think youwounded him, Giraffe."
"Huh? why not?"
"Because I never knew a wildcat that was wounded to run away," Allanreplied. "Once you give them pain, and you can make up your mind you'vegot a fight on your hands, and the chances are, a warm one too."
Giraffe looked disappointed.
"Well, I tried for him, anyway," he remarked. "Let's see if we canglimpse his old staring yellow eyes somewhere up there."
But they failed to do so.
"Make up your minds he's got clean off before now," said Allan. "The wayone of those big cats can spring from tree to tree is fierce. But wehaven't the time just now to be looking for cats. I don't believe we'velost any, do you, Thad?"
"But that old rascal seemed to be hanging on a limb just about over whereour tenderfoot pard must have passed by," ventured Giraffe, a new feararising in his breast.
"Oh! my, I hope now he wasn't there when Bumpus came along," remarkedStep Hen, as if comprehending the thought that had taken form in the mindof his comrade.
"What's this mean, Thad?" asked Allen, just then, pointing down close tohis feet; and the other three uttered various exclamations when they sawwhat he was referring to.
"Spots of dried blood!" gasped Giraffe.
"It is, now, for a fact," Step Hen followed with, "Oh! that cat must havejumped on poor old Bumpus, and clawed him up something scandalous. Hebled like a stuck pig, as he ran off. And see here, where something'sbeen just dragging along the ground. What if he's wounded so bad he hadto pull one leg after him? This is just awful, fellers. Poor old Bumpus!"
But Thad and A
llan somehow did not seem to join with the others infeeling sorry. At least they made no remarks. And as they all walkedslowly on, following the blood-stained tracks, if Giraffe or Step Hen,instead of keeping their eyes so closely upon the ground, had ventured toraise them a little, so as to take in the faces of their chums, doubtlesstheir surprise would have been great to notice that Thad wore a broadsmile, while Allan was making various suggestive gestures, and winkingone eye in the direction of the scoutmaster.
So they walked slowly forward a score or more of paces, when Giraffe andStep Hen were once more startled. This time it was not by the suddenappearance of a ferocious wild beast, but only the voice of Allan callingout:
"Oh! look! look! whatever can that be, hanging yonder from the limb ofthat tree?"