CHAPTER XIII
AN EXCITING DAY IN CAMP
The moose struggled for a few seconds, then stiffened out.
"What was that?" demanded the sharp-eared Tad.
"It sounded like a tree falling," answered Rector.
"No, it was something else," answered the guide, intently listening.
"Where is Stacy?" demanded the Professor.
"That's so, he isn't here," wondered Walter. "Where can he havegone?"
Stacy Brown about this time was struggling to his feet. Histerrified eyes were looking at the stunned hulk lying there on theground. Then Stacy Brown found his voice. He uttered a wild yellof terror.
Cale Vaughn was on his feet in a twinkling. But quick as he was, Tadwas ahead of him, tearing through the brush to the rescue of the fatboy, who, all believed, had got into some new difficulty. Bears wasthe first thought of the quicker-witted ones.
Stacy heard his friends coming, then a sudden thought occurred tohim. Whipping out his keen-edged hunting knife the fat boy sprangforward, giving the knife a swift sweep over the neck of the fallen,stunned bull.
Chunky leaped back, uttering another yell, this time of triumphrather than fear.
"I got him! I got him!" he yelled.
At this juncture Tad came tearing through the brush.
"What is it? What is it? Here he is. Here--"
Tad Butler came to a sudden halt, at the same time slipping hisrevolver from its holster, but as quickly replacing it when heobserved the real condition of affairs.
There stood Stacy with the crimsoned knife still in hand, the otherhand thrust in his trousers pocket, his chest thrown out, his headtilted back at an angle that threatened to topple him over backwards.
"What--what?" gasped Tad.
By that time Cale Vaughn had reached Tad's side.
"What has happened here?" demanded the guide sharply.
"That," answered Tad, pointing to the dying moose that had fallen avictim to the fat boy's hunting knife.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Cale. He, too, was well-nigh speechless."Who did that?"
"I did it with my little knife," answered the fat boy pompously.
"It's a bull moose, sir, and the boy has killed it," said the guidein a puzzled voice, as the Professor, with Ned Rector and WalterPerkins, came running up to them. "This is the most remarkable thingI ever heard of."
"Oh, that's nothing," replied Chunky airily. "It is only pleasantpastime to go out and kill a moose by hand."
The party was now standing about the fallen animal, but they tookcare not to approach too closely, for the bull was still kicking.Tad shook his head.
"How did this happen?" demanded the guide, turning on Chunky sharply.
"He sailed into me, sir. Yes, sir, he lighted right into me with allfour feet and his horns. We had it tooth and nail all over theplace. It was a dandy battle. You ought to have seen it. Talkabout your boxing matches."
"But how did you do it?" insisted the guide, not believing Stacy'sstory.
"With my little knife, of course. How did you suppose I cut histhroat? Did you think I bit it in two?"
"I'd hardly give you credit for being quite so hungry as that,"answered Cale with the suspicion of a twinkle. "Let us have thestory."
"I am telling you--"
"My, but he is a big one!" exclaimed Ned.
"The largest one I ever saw. He is a terror. He must weigh morethan fifteen hundred pounds," interrupted Mr. Vaughn.
"Most remarkable, most remarkable!" muttered the Professor, whileWalter Perkins gazed in awe upon the fat boy, who was literallyswelling with importance.
"I was dancing around like a boxer," continued Chunky. "I fought himwith my hare hands until I happened to think of my knife. I drew myknife and I made a pass at him, but he jumped away. Oh, it was afine bout, don't you folks forget it for a minute! Well, after atime I found an opening, then I let him have it right across thejug--jug--jugular."
"But what was that crash we heard?" asked Vaughn.
"That? Oh, that was when he fell down," answered Stacy a littlelamely.
"Hm-m-m!" mused the guide. Vaughn was not convinced. He knew thatthere was more to it than appeared on the surface. Chancing tocatch the eyes of Tad Butler, he saw that Tad was of the same opinion.
"He is dead now. We can look him over," announced the guide.
"Isn't that a dandy pair of antlers?" cried Butler.
"Very fine indeed," agreed Cale.
"The finest specimens I have ever seen," nodded the Professor.
"We can take the antlers home with us, can we not?" asked Ned.
"You mean I can," interposed Stacy.
"I am afraid it wouldn't do," replied Vaughn thoughtfully. "I know itis a pity to leave such a pair here in the woods, but it would not besafe to take them out."
"I guess I will take them out," bristled Chunky.
"Why will it not be safe, Mr. Vaughn?" inquired Tad.
"Because it is against the law to shoot moose at this time of theyear."
"I didn't shoot him. I knifed him," answered the fat boy.
"That makes no difference; you killed him. The open season is fromOctober fifteenth to December first. You see we are a long way froman open season in the middle of June."
The boys looked solemn.
"Oh, that's too bad," said Tad.
"I'll tell you what we will do," decided the guide, after a fewmoments' reflection. "I will cut off the head and we will bury theantlers. When the open season comes along I will drop out here andget the antlers. We can't hope to preserve the head that long, butthe antlers themselves will be no small trophy when you consider thatthis is one of the largest bulls ever taken in the Maine woods. And,further, we shall have some fine moose steak. It will probably be alittle tough from this big fellow, but it isn't every day that youcan have moose steak for dinner. Where is Charlie?"
"In camp," answered Walter.
Cale shouted to him. He ordered the Indian to cut poles and preparefor butchering the dead bull. Tad asked if he might do it, to whichrequest the guide gave a willing assent. This was somewhat differentfrom butchering a bear weighing only a few hundred pounds. Athree-quarter-ton moose was not an easy proposition to butcher. Tadtugged and perspired, and in the end was forced to ask for assistancein getting the animal off the ground. Cale smiled.
"I thought you would be calling for help pretty soon," he said. "Noone man could handle that carcass alone. Here, Charlie, get hold ofthe hind legs and help drag the fellow over between those two trees,then dig a hole so we can bury everything that would show what wehave done. We don't want anybody to know about this, now that it isdone."
It took Tad nearly an hour and a half to complete his job, and whenhe had finished he was ready for another bath in the lake, which hetook, at the same time washing his clothes and dancing up and downthe beach while they were drying out in the sun. Tad said one moosewas enough for him. If he ever had to dress another he wouldn'tdress it.
During all this time Chunky Brown was strolling up and down withchest thrown out, his hands in his trousers pockets. His achievementwas the talk of the camp. The boys were greatly excited, more orless envious of what Stacy had accomplished.
Tad, after he had donned his clothes, returned to the scene of theconflict. He examined the ground, then turned his attention to thetree. The boy devoted some moments to a certain spot on the treewhere the bark had been broken by the blow from the moose's head.Tad grinned, but he said nothing to his companions upon his return tocamp. It was too good to tell. He did not know how much Cale knewor suspected, but he realized that the guide did not quite believeall that Stacy had told them about the battle.
"Now tell us about that fight with the moose again?" urged Tad.
Chunky was willing.
"Well, it was this way," he began, leaning against a tree, the othersbeing seated about the fire.
"You mean it was _that_ way," suggested Rector.
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"I mean what I said. If you know more about it than I do, supposeyou tell the story. I went out there because I heard something--no,I guess I didn't hear anything at the start. However, I went outthere."
"Yes, we know you went out there," said Tad. "If you hadn't gone outthere, how could you have gotten there?"
"I--I went out there."
"To sleep?" asked Ned.
"Well, yes. I guess I did. After a time I woke up. I saw this bigbull sniffing around. I didn't know what he was at first. I thoughthe was an elephant until I saw his horns."
"Didn't think it was a cow, did you?" inquired Tad solemnly.
"I did not," answered the fat boy with dignity. "About the time Idiscovered him he saw me. Then--then--then he went for me. Youshould have seen him come!"
"Show us how he did it," nodded the guide.
The fat boy, forgetful of his new dignity, lowered his head as closeto the ground as possible without falling over on his face and beganprancing about the camp, bellowing hoarsely.
"Just like that?" asked Ned.
"Yes, just like that, only awfully fierce!"
The Professor was regarding the boy narrowly. A dawning suspicionwas in his mind that Stacy was drawing the longbow. But ProfessorZepplin made no comment.
"And then?" inquired Cale quietly.
"And then we met. I--I must have grabbed the bull by the horns afterhe had swung around twice and tried to kick me--"
"That sounds more like a kangaroo than a bull moose," observed theProfessor.
"It was this same moose, Professor. This is what is known as thekicking species of moose," answered Tad, trying to keep a straightface.
"Yes, he is like some folks we know not more than a mile and a halffrom here. He was a kicker. Well, I caught him by the horns justlike this. Then you should have seen the fun. Why we thrashedaround"--Stacy was acting it all out, bellowing loudly--"he floppedme this way and that. Funny thing, but I never thought of my knife."
"No?" said the guide, elevating his eyebrows slightly.
"No, sir. Of course if I had had a gun, I would have shot him. ButI didn't have a gun, and having so few chances to use my knife, Inever thought a thing about it. Well, we had it hot and heavy untilI did think of the knife."
"Why didn't you let go?" asked Walter.
"Fine thing to do, that," answered Stacy scornfully. "Why, he wouldhave bored me through with his antlers; then he would have come intocamp and killed you all. You see, I was determined to save yourlives as well as my own."
"Noble boy!" murmured Rector.
"Very considerate, indeed," observed the Professor dryly.
"Why didn't you call for help?" asked Cale.
"I had use for my breath," replied Stacy quickly. "I couldn't yellwithout taking my mind off the brute. Then he would have finishedme. After a while I did think of the knife. At the firstopportunity I whipped it out and gave him one out across the neck.But, sir, I didn't let go until he fell over. I almost went downwith him. Then he fell over and I let out a yell."
"That is the most dramatic account I have ever listened to," observedCale soberly.
"Most remarkable," added the Professor, stroking his beard.
"What a star Chunky would be in the Fibbers' Club," grumbled NedRector.
"And that's how I did it," finished the fat boy, beginning towhistle through his teeth as he strolled back and forth with hands inhis pockets. Stacy Brown was now thoroughly convinced that he was ina class all by himself. He had suspected as much before. Now heknew it. But a day of unhappiness was at hand when the fat boy wouldwish he never had come into the big woods.