Storm-Bound; or, A Vacation Among the Snow Drifts

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER VI

  IN THE FROZEN MARSH

  PERHAPS it was just as well that the crows took the alarm, and flewnoisily away. If Lil Artha had taken a shot at them and secured one ormore, there might have been a peck of trouble, not only for the crowsbut some of the scouts as well.

  They pushed on for some little time after this in silence. Elmer wasconstantly on the watch for a possible camping spot. He hardly expectedthey would be as highly favored as on the preceding night; but then, asno storm threatened, this was not absolutely necessary. He anticipatedthat they would be able to put up some sort of barrier to keep the keenwind off, clear a place of snow, and do the best possible with what theyfound.

  "Looks like we might be on the border of a sort of marsh," suggested LilArtha, as he made an extra effort, and caught up with the ploddingleader.

  "Yes, I began to notice that about ten minutes ago," replied Elmer.

  "I only mention the fact," continued the lanky scout, "because itstrikes me that several times when Toby read out long descriptiveletters he had from his uncle up here the old gentleman told of gettingsome of his best views when lying out in a marsh, and watching thelittle animals play tag, or some game like that, build their nests, andhave their scraps. Am I right about that, Elmer?"

  "Yes, and I can see what you're hinting at, Lil Artha. You've got anidea this may be that marsh?"

  "Correct!" admitted the tall scout.

  "And that if we've finally managed to work around, and strike UncleCaleb's favorite stamping grounds, there's a pretty good chance thecabin can't be a great ways off?" Elmer concluded, while his wordsbrought vigorous nods of approval from the other.

  "Wish we could set up a holler that'd reach him!" ventured Lil Artha.

  "We might try a few shots and see if they had any result, though I'drather wait till dark before doing that," the scout master remarked,thoughtfully.

  Lil Artha pondered over this for a minute before he made any furtherremark.

  "I reckon you mean you still hope we might run foul of some sort of gamethat would give us a supper?" he finally observed.

  "Well, here's the marsh, and while the snow is deep in most places, wemight manage to run across one of their queer little winter houses, youknow."

  Lil Artha must have been thinking along the same lines as Elmer, if onecould judge from the rapidity with which he took the other up.

  "You mean muskrats, don't you, Elmer?"

  "Just what I do," came the reply. "Beggars mustn't be choosers, theysay; and it looks like that, or go hungry to-night, because we haven'tgot enough stuff on hand for two, much less four."

  "I wonder if they are so very bad eating?" mused the tall scout,wistfully; for prejudice is a hard thing to conquer; and habit backed byimagination is responsible for the choice of many a man's food. Whatappeals tremendously to one may cause another to shrink.

  Elmer laughed.

  "I've heard many men say they think musquash as good as almost anythingto be had in the woods or swamps up north. The Indians always considerthem a dainty," he told his chum.

  "Oh! yes, but they are also mighty fond of baked dog," remonstrated LilArtha.

  "So would you be, if you'd been brought up that way. Some people can'tbear the thought of eating frogs' legs, and yet those same folks willsit down and calmly swallow a dozen oysters or clams on the half shell.Now, I've always said that the first man who ever gulped down a liveoyster had more nerve even than Napoleon. Then, if you only travelaround, from China to France, you'll find that things we scorn arecalled dainties there. Take snails, which bring a high price in Parismarkets--have you ever eaten one in all your life?"

  "Hold on there, Elmer," exclaimed Lil Artha; "bring on your musquash.I'm ready to give him a fair trial, and if he tastes good, after thisyou won't hear me draw the line even at baked dog--or crow. Yes, I'veheard of people who say they've made a meal off crow, and liked it. Why,down our way the black rascals live on corn, and I don't see why theyshouldn't be eatable, especially when a fellow has nothing else along."

  "Then I tell you what our programme should be," the scout mastercontinued, as though this ready admission on the part of the othergun-bearer had settled the question with him; "we'll make up our mindsabout stopping close by here, and on the border of the marsh. WhileGeorge and Toby are fixing camp, and beginning to gather wood, the twoof us can start out and enter the marsh, keeping within calling distanceof each other. If there's anything doing we'll bag some game for oursupper to-night. How does that strike you?"

  "Tip-top, Elmer, and because the sun is getting pretty low over there inthe west we'd better be finding that camp-site in a hurry."

  "I think I see as good a place as any right now," the scout masterdeclared, as he pointed straight ahead. "You can glimpse what I mean bylooking just past that birch that is bent nearly double with the snow. Adead tree lies on the ground, and I should think it would give us allthe wood we'll need to-night. That's the main thing to make sure of."

  "And there's a heavy growth in sight, Elmer, that would serve as awindbreak in case it got to blowing great guns before morning, which Idon't think will happen though. Shall I tell the other fellows we're atthe end of our day's tramp?"

  "Yes, because they're both about as tired as can be, and will be glad tohear the news," Elmer replied.

  So Lil Artha fell back in order to get in communication with Toby andGeorge, who were plodding along with many a sigh and grunt; for theirpacks were heavy, and the going rough, with all that deep snow tostruggle through.

  "Hi! hurry along there, fellows!" he called out; "we're meaning to campright ahead here. Plenty of wood for a fire, and a windbreak in thebargain."

  "Tell us something about the visible grub supply, won't you, Lil Artha?"asked Toby, beseechingly. "Is there a good grocery around the corner,and does the butcher call for orders every morning, or just three timesa week?"

  "Oh! you have to go after your fresh meat," laughed the tall scout, "andthat's what me'nd Elmer propose doing, leaving you two to fix the camp."

  "All right," replied the weary Toby, "just as you say. Anything tooblige; and here's hoping you run up against the best of success. Abroiled partridge, or three slices of juicy venison in the fryingpanwould about suit my taste."

  "They don't grow juicy venison up here, you ought to know, Toby; everykind I ever heard of was as dry as tinder, and had to be cooked withslices of bacon to make it taste just right. But considering that we'vemade way with the last scrap of cured pork I guess we'll take it any oldstyle."

  Lil Artha did not think it wise to spring the muskrat idea too suddenlyon those unsuspecting fellows. He had a vague idea that should Elmer andhimself meet with success, and knock over several of the marsh dwellerswith the unenviable name, they might skin them, and let their chumsimagine that they were eating squirrel or rabbit or something like that.Afterwards, when they had set the stamp of approval upon the dish, thetruth could come out. Prejudice by then would have been overcome by theknowledge that "musquash," the Indian dish, was all right.

  When the little struggling party reached the spot Elmer had selected,and every one had a chance to survey the situation, a unanimous approvalof his choice was the result.

  "You couldn't have done better if you'd tried," said George.

  "Don't believe there's as good a camp-site within five miles," Tobyadded; but perhaps the tired condition of the boys had something to dowith this endorsement on their part; just then any place would havesatisfied their desires, which were not very exacting.

  The heavy packs were quickly hung from the lower limb of a tree underwhich the camp fire was to be made. It was a pine, and beneath it theground seemed to be fairly clear of snow, most of what had fallen stillclinging to the tree itself.

  "Better not waste any more time, had we, Elmer?" asked the tall scout,as he nervously handled his Marlin gun, anxious to start out after game.

  "No, get busy, please," said Toby; "don't bother about us, for we knowhow camp ought to b
e made. All we ask is that you come back loaded downwith something to eat."

  "We don't care much what it is, if only you cut out crow," George added.

  Lil Artha gave his fellow Nimrod a quick look, as much as to say, "thatlets us out, and we can fetch home the musquash with a clearconscience--if so be we're lucky enough to bag any."

  They went away in company. The last words George flung after thedeparting comrades was a caution.

  "For goodness' sake now, don't go and get lost in that marsh, or we willbe in a bad scrape. Things are hard enough as it stands without ourgetting separated. If you don't just know where the camp is located givethree yells, or fire three shots as fast as you can. We'll answer youback, and keep hollering till you show up. Three shots, remember."

  Once the two scouts entered the frozen marsh they kept together for ashort time.

  "How'll I know a muskrat house when I see it, Elmer?" asked Lil Artha.

  "Oh! you've seen them often around home, only you forget," replied theother, but in order to make sure, he continued: "you know, they buildtheir nests or houses a little after the same style as beaver do, onlyof course not so big or secure. If when you're passing a marsh or swampytract, and spy a number of what look like irregular mounds, or heaps ofdead rushes, you can make up your mind muskrats live there. If it's alake or a stream they can be found in among the rocks too, but not as arule, because there they are apt to run up against the otter, weasel andthe mink, and there's no love lost between those sharp-toothed animalsand the muskrat. He's a hard fighter, too, as his jaws tell you, LilArtha, but hardly a match for a mink in a stand-up scrap. There's amuskrat house right now; let's stop and see if the old fellow is athome."

  Accordingly they surrounded the accumulation of dead rushes and leavesand other refuse, after which Elmer tore it to pieces, while Lil Arthastood guard, ready to take snap judgment should the occasion arise.

  It turned out to be a disappointment, however, for the mound was empty.

  "Nothing doing, eh?" grunted the tall scout, lowering his gun, which hehad been keeping half elevated all the while.

  "No, and I didn't believe we'd have any success here soon after Istarted tearing the thing down," replied Elmer. "It showed all the signsof being a deserted shack."

  "What could have happened to the former inhabitant, do you think?"continued the disappointed one, to whom even musquash stew was beginningto appeal more and more, as the chances of securing any sort of gamediminished in proportion.

  "I might guess that he chose to change his place of residence," saidElmer, "or, it might be that Uncle Caleb fancies the old Indian dishonce in a while. But let's be moving along. The mill will never grindagain with the water that is past; and we're not going to get our supperby standing over a muskrat house that hasn't got any owner."

  Another start was accordingly made. Elmer kept track of the directionthey were taking. He did not mean to find himself in a quandary whenthey were ready to turn back again, and not be able to say where thecamp lay. Lil Artha knew he could depend on his chum in that respect,and hence he did not concern himself in the slightest degree about sucha thing as becoming bewildered. It is a nice thing to have some one tolean upon at all times, though the scout master often took Lil Artha totask because of his willingness to let another do his thinking for him.

  "Let's separate a little," Elmer suggested, presently, when they hadgone along for quite some distance and found nothing at all. "We oughtto be able to keep in sight of each other easily enough; and the sametime cover a lot more ground, and in that way increase our chances."

  "I'm agreeable," chirped Lil Artha, not suspecting how great aninfluence on their future fortunes even that little incident was goingto prove; "I'll swing off to the right here, and follow this swale,while you keep straight on. I rather like the looks of things over thisway, and p'raps I'll run across a colony of those r--I mean musquash."

  "Give me the wolf call if you do," Elmer told him, smiling at the quickway Lil Artha had corrected himself when about to give that unpleasantname to the furry little denizen of the marsh they were seeking soeagerly, so as to improve the looks of their larder, and satisfy acraving they felt for making his acquaintance in a stew.

  Elmer watched the tall scout move along the swale he had mentioned. Hefancied that Lil Artha was about right when he declared it looked asthough something might be found in that direction, if signs stood formuch.

  "I certainly hope, then, he strikes it," Elmer mused as he rambled on,dodging all the drifts whenever he could, and straining his eyes for asight of welcome signs; "because we need it worse than we ever neededanything before."

  He had just succeeded in evading a bad place, and was about to lookagain in order to learn where his chum might be, when without warningthere came two reports in quick succession right beyond a bunch of thickbrush and not two hundred feet away.

  Elmer immediately started toward the spot as fast as he could go. Hethought he heard loud words spoken, and was in a fever of suspense,fearing Lil Artha might have hurt himself, until rounding theobstruction he saw the other standing there, holding his Marlin gundejectedly while he stared into space.

  "Oh! Elmer!" exclaimed the tall scout, as soon as he noticed that hiscompanion was close to him; "a deer, as sure as smoke, and I firedpoint-blank at him both times; but hang the luck, I must have missed thebeggar, for he gave an _aw_ful jump, and went off like a streak, worseluck to me for a bungler!"