CHAPTER 3 RED PROVES HIS POINT
The next night after school, all the Cubs except Mack, who had a paperroute, gathered at the Holloway beach for canoe practice.
Dan, Brad, Chips and Fred had passed their swimming tests with flyingcolors. Red, less skillful at water sports, was assigned to paintingpaddles.
Mr. Hatfield provided him with a number of interesting Navajo designs,telling him to make his own selection.
"If you do a good job of painting, Red, we'll exhibit your paddle at theIndian pow-wow," he promised. "An award is to be made to the Den thatturns in the most artistic one."
"I'll come up with a prize winner!" Red grinned. A talented art studentin the Webster City elementary school, he was confident of his ability."Right now, though, I've got other things on my mind."
"Weird faces on the cliff?" the cubmaster prompted.
"My honor's at stake," Red declared. "If you'll just give me a chance toprove--"
"All in good time," promised Mr. Hatfield. "First, canoe practice, andthen we'll hike to the ravine to satisfy our curiosity."
While Red busied himself on the beach, painting paddles, the other Cubs,took turns using the canoe Mr. Halloway had provided for their use. Bradand Dan already had mastered the knack of guiding the craft skillfullyand were developing strong arm muscles.
After a hard paddle against the current, the two Cubs returned to shoreto give up their places to Chips and Fred.
As they stepped out on the sand, they saw a newcomer talking to Red.
"Why, that's Ross Langdon!" Dan muttered under his breath. "What's hedoing here?"
"Scouting for Den 1, I'll bet a cent," Brad replied. "You know Ross! He'salready afraid we'll get ahead of him somehow."
"We usually do, too," grinned Dan.
Ross and Dan long had been friendly rivals. Both were excellent swimmers,though in a Pack competition, Dan had proven himself to be the better.Ross, who prided himself upon excelling in all sports, never hadforgotten.
"He's here to see how we're getting along in canoe practice," Danremarked. "Well, I hope he gets an eye full!"
Ross was tall and gangling, having grown so fast that his Cub uniformalready was too small for him. He was strong for his age, inclined to bearrogant, and was the least liked of any boy in Den 1.
Aware that Mr. Hatfield and Mr. Holloway were within hearing distance,Ross addressed the two Cubs respectfully enough.
"Working hard, I see."
"Oh, just practicing a little," Dan answered carelessly.
"You should," Ross retorted boastfully. "Den 1 is all set to take you fora cleaning in the canoe race. We'll win in a walk."
If the Den 1 boy had hoped to get a retort from Brad or Dan, theydisappointed him by remaining silent. Irked by his failure to start aspirited debate, Ross picked up the paddle upon which Red had beenworking.
"Hey, be careful!" Red protested. "You'll make the paint run!"
"Couldn't make it look much worse than it is," Ross said contemptuously."You should see some of the paddles Den 1 has painted."
"Works of art, I suppose?" Brad asked dryly. "Going to exhibit 'em at themuseum?"
"Maybe, after we've nailed first prize at the Pack exhibition."
"Put that paddle down before you wreck it!" Red ordered furiously."You're getting sand on the fresh paint."
"Excuse me." With an elaborate bow, Ross laid the paddle on the sand nearthe river's edge. Glancing around, he next demanded: "Where's yourhogan?"
"Haven't started it yet," Brad replied. "We'll probably get it up overthe week-end."
"Den 1 has a dandy all finished," Ross continued boastfully. "We put itup in nothing flat."
Dan could not resist saying cuttingly: "It probably looks like it too! Weaim to take our time and do a good job."
Ignoring the jibe, Ross glowingly described the accomplishments of theDen 1 Cubs. Not only had they completed a Navajo hogan, but they likewisehad started to build a trading post and a Wells Fargo station, heinformed his listeners.
"We're building a loom too, for blanket weaving," he went on grandly."And we've already gathered six boxes of clothing to send out West to theNavajo reservation."
"You're ahead of us all right," Dan conceded. "But we've only started onthe program. You'll see us put on steam."
"I hope so. Otherwise, Den 1 will have absolutely no competition at thepow-wow." Affecting a bored air, Ross sauntered away.
"That snoop!" Red snorted. "He came here to spy and for no other reason.I don't believe half what he said."
"It's probably true Den 1 is ahead of us, but that doesn't mean it willbe that way in another week," Dan declared. "They started in before wedid, so naturally we're behind."
Red, who a few minutes before, had been very proud of the Indian designhe had painted on the paddle, gazed at it with distaste.
"I guess it isn't much of a job," he admitted.
"It's a swell design!" Brad reassured him. "Not that you won't be able todo even better with a little more practice."
"I'll work on an original design--not one copied from a book!" Redannounced grimly. "I'll show that Ross Langdon!"
"That's the spirit," laughed Brad. "Maybe it's a good thing he cameprowling around here. It will spur us to greater effort."
After Ross had gone, the Cubs kept on with their canoe practice untillong shadows began to finger out across the water. Mr. Hatfield thencalled a halt.
"It's getting late," he said. "If we want to hike to the ravine, we'llhave to make a start."
Dan and Chips pulled the canoe out of the water, taking care to drag itfar up on shore beyond the reach of waves. There they overturned it sothat it would be dry when they wanted to use it again.
"We'll let Red lead the way," Mr. Hatfield said as the boys started offthrough the woods. "Think you can find the ravine?"
"I'm sure I can, Mr. Hatfield. And I'll prove--"
"Sure, we know," cut in Chips wearily. "We'll believe you when we see it.Just lead the way and don't give with so many promises."
Goaded by the knowledge that his fellow Cubs still believed his report ofthe previous night to be a brain fantasy, Red started doggedly offthrough the woods.
At first he followed the well-marked trail. After going a short distance,he hesitated briefly and then moved off in a diagonal direction.
"Everything looks different in the daytime," he complained. "I think Icame this way, but I'm not sure."
"Give up already?" Fred teased.
"Not on your life."
"The ravine is just ahead," said Mr. Hatfield. "It extends for the entiredistance of the park preserve though."
Presently, the Cubs emerged from the trees to find themselves on a greatlimestone rock overlooking a deep gash in the earth.
In either direction, as far as they could see, stretched the shadowyravine. At the bottom, a tiny stream of clear water rippled and foamedover the rocks.
Opposite the Cubs, the cliff walls rose somber but entirely blank.
"Where's your big face, Red?" Brad demanded.
"I must have come out at the wrong place," Red mumbled. "It should behere, or somewhere close."
"Not even a trace of a bon-fire," remarked Chips. "I guess this proveswho was right, Red."
"It does not!"
"Give him a chance, boys," interposed Mr. Hatfield. "The place Red'slooking for may be up the ravine from here."
"That's right," Red agreed quickly. "This doesn't look like the place atall."
"Well, lead us to it then," urged Fred. "That's all we're waiting for."
Considerably let-down, Red turned to the left, picking his way along theedge of the ravine. At intervals, he paused to scan the walls and shelfof rock.
"Hey, my feet hurt!" Chips presently complained. "How much farther do wewalk?"
Red halted, gazing at Mr. Hatfield in despair.
"It's no use, I guess. I never came this far last night."
"I'm
afraid we'll have to give up the search for this afternoon," thecubmaster said regretfully. "We can try again sometime, Red."
The Cub made no reply, but was sunk in gloom. Well he knew that the otherboys would make life miserable for him, twitting him about his vividimagination.
He was grateful that during the hike back along the ravine, theyrefrained from making remarks.
Reaching the turn-off by the granite boulder, Red again paused to surveythe site.
"I think we went the wrong direction," he said. "If we'd turned rightinstead of left, we'd have hit the place. Close by too."
"No alibis," chided Chips.
"Just give me five minutes more," the boy pleaded. "That's all I ask.Five minutes! If I can't find the place by that time, then I'm willing toeat worms."
"Five minutes?" repeated Mr. Hatfield, noting how rapidly darkness wasfalling upon the ravine. "I guess we can give you that much time, but nomore."
"Come on, then," Red urged, leading off, almost at a dog trot. "We'retraveling fast this time."
The Cubs were hard pressed to keep up. Sure of foot, Red skirted close tothe edge of the steep cliffs.
"This is the right way, I'm certain!" he encouraged the others. "I thinkI remember that white birch!"
"You think!" Chips exploded as he caught his shoe on a sharp rock. "Youbetter be sure."
Abruptly, Red halted. So suddenly did he stop that those behind himbumped into one another.
"What did I tell you!" he fairly shouted. "I guess this proves whether ornot I was dreaming!"
Through a gap in the bushes, the Cubs glimpsed the opposite wall of theravine. One section of it had fallen away, leaving an expanse of richclay.
From this surface loomed a grotesque carved face, that of a man with verysevere features.
The Cubs were so taken aback that for a full minute they could only standand stare. Then Dan exclaimed:
"It's real enough. Gosh, what a face!"
"How did it get here?" Brad demanded. "Who carved it?"
"And what about that fire Red saw?" added Chips.
"I can see where a fire was built on that rock shelf directly below thecarved face," observed Mr. Hatfield.
Both he and Mr. Holloway were mystified by the strange carving, havinghad no knowledge that anything of the sort could be found in the parkarea.
"Someone was here last night all right," the cubmaster declared.
"And someone's here now," murmured Brad, peering intently down into aclump of bushes directly behind the dead ashes of the camp fire. "We'rebeing watched by a man who's hiding there in the foliage!"
Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Page 3
