CHAPTER III.
THE ACCUSATION MADE BY STEP-HEN.
"Am I going to swell up any more, Thad; and will you just have to puthoops on me to keep me from bursting?" asked Bumpus, earnestly.
The other fellows wanted to laugh, but to their credit be it said thatthey restrained this feeling. It would be heartless, with poor Bumpuslooking so badly.
"Oh! don't get that notion into your head," said the young leader; foras assistant scout-master, in the absence of Dr. Philander, Thad wassupposed to take charge of the troop, and assume all his duties; "here,fellows, bring him along back to the spring. I've got something in myhaversack the doctor gave me, that ought to help Bumpus."
"Was it meant for ant bites, Thad, do you know?" asked the victim, as heallowed his comrades to urge him along slowly; while he rubbed, firstone part of his person, and then another, as the various swellings stungin succession.
"Well, he really said it was to be used in case any of us got scratchedby a wild animal, and there was danger of poisoning; but it strikes meit would be a good antiseptic, he called it, in this case."
Having reached the spot where Bob White still faithfully stood guardover their few belongings, Thad hurriedly threw open his bundle, andtook out a little package carefully wrapped up. It contained rolls ofsoft white linen to be used for bandages in case of need; adhesiveplaster, also in small rolls; and a few common remedies such as camphor,arnica, and the like, intended for ailments boys may invite whenovereating, or partaking too freely of green apples.
"Here it is," he remarked, holding up a small bottle.
"How purple it looks," observed Davy Jones, curiously; "and what's thison the label, here. 'Permaganate of Potash, No. 6; to be painted on thescratch; and used several times if necessary.' That's Doc. Philander'swriting, sure."
"It looks pretty tough," commented Giraffe.
"The remedy is sometimes worse than the disease, they say," remarkedSmithy.
"You don't think it'll hurt much, do you, Thad?" asked the victim,trying to smile, but unable, on account of his swollen cheeks.
"Not a bit, I understand," came the reassuring reply. "Besides, I shouldthink that you wouldn't hold back, even if it did, Bumpus. You're in abad way, and I've just got to counteract that poison before your eyesclose up."
"Go on, use the whole bottle if you want to," urged the alarmed boy.
"The only bad thing about it is that this stuff stains like fun, andyou'll be apt to look like a wild Indian for a day or two," Thadobserved, as he started to apply the potash with a small camel's hairbrush brought for the purpose.
"Little I care about that, so long as it does the business," repliedBumpus; and so the amateur doctor continued to dab each bite with thelavender-colored fluid until the patient looked as though he might besome strange freak intended for a dime museum.
Of course that was too much for the other boys. They snickered behindtheir hands, and presently broke out into a yell that awoke the echoes.Bumpus only nodded his head at them, for he was a very good-naturedfellow.
"Laugh away and welcome, boys," he remarked, grimly. "Feels betteralready, Thad, and if the stuff will only do the business I don't carewhat happens. Besides, the fellows must have their fun. But theywouldn't think it a joke if any of them had climbed up, looking for ahoney pot, and dropped through the rotten stuff that covered the hole inthe top of that stump."
"Well," said Step-hen, "if it had been our monkey, now. He'd have had agreat time climbing out; but Davy could have done it; he's more at homein a tree than on the ground."
He said this because the Jones boy was as nimble as an ape when he foundan opportunity to show off his gymnastics; he dearly loved to hang froma limb by his toes, and carry on like a circus athlete or trapezeperformer.
"Do we make a start now?" asked Bob White; "exactly fifteen minutesspent, suh, in rescuing our comrade in distress."
"Are you able to walk with us, Bumpus?" asked Thad.
"Oh! I guess I can amble along somehow," responded the fat boy; "butplease detail a couple of scouts to keep near me, in case I begin toswell again. I'm sorry we haven't got a rope along; because I'd feelsafer if I had one wrapped around me right now."
"Where's my campaign hat?" burst out Step-hen just then; "anybody seenit layin' around loose? I declare to goodness it's queer how _my_ thingsalways seem to disappear. I often think there must be some magic aboutit."
"Huh! the only trouble is you never keep a blessed thing where itbelongs," declared Davy, in scorn. "Now, there's Smithy, who goes tojust the opposite extreme; he's too particular, and wastes time, which atrue scout should never do. The rest of us try to be half-way decent;and you notice we seldom lose anything. There's your old hat right now,just where you flung it when we dropped down here."
"Oh! thank you, Davy; perhaps I am just a little careless, as you say;but all the same it's funny how _my_ things always go. Hope, now, Idon't lose that splendid little aluminum compass I bought the other day,thinking that it might save me from getting lost in the woods sometime."
"Oh! come along, old slow-poke, we're going to start There's Bumpustrying to screw his lips into a pucker right now, so he can blow thebugle. Ain't he got the grit, though, to attend to his business withthat swollen face?"
Presently, after the inspiring notes of the bugle had sounded, thepatrol once more took up its line of march. Each scout had his staff inhis hand, and carried a haversack on his back. Blankets they had none,for all those necessary things had been entrusted to the care of afarmer, whose route home from early market took him near the intendedcamping place on Lake Omega; a beautiful, if wild looking sheet of watersome miles in length, and situated about ten from Cranford town.
Allan and Thad headed the procession that soon straggled in couplesalong the side of the dusty road.
"What made you mention the name of Brose Griffin when you detailedNumber Four to remain at the camp?" asked Allan, who had evidently beenthinking about this same thing.
"Well," replied the scout-master, "it flashed into my mind that thesetough fellows might have dogged us up here, to play some of their trickson us when in camp; and that holding Bumpus was meant to draw the restoff, so they could run away with our haversacks, which they knew mustcontain lots of things we couldn't well get on without in camp."
"Smithy couldn't if his hair brush and his little whisk broom weremissing," declared Allan, with a chuckle. "Why, that boy seems to onlylive to fight against dirt. He's the most particular fellow I everknew."
"Oh! wait and see how he gets over that before he's been a scout twomonths," said Thad, also laughing. "Nothing like the rough and readylife in camp and on the march to cure a boy of being over-clean. He'dnever learn any different at home, you know, because his mother is thesame way, and brought him up pretty much like a girl. But he's reachedthe point now where the true boy nature is beginning to get the betterof that false pride."
"But seriously, Thad, do you believe we'll see anything of Brose Griffinand his two shadows, Bangs and Hop?"
"I certainly hope we won't," replied the other; "but you know what theyare; and I've been told that they went around asking all sorts ofquestions about where we intended to make our first camp-fire. Itwouldn't surprise me much if they did try to give us trouble."
"What will we do if it happens that way?" asked Allan.
"Defend ourselves, to be sure," replied the scout-master, promptly, ashe gave a weed a snap with his staff that cut its top off neatly.
"But scouts are not supposed to fight; that is one of the principles ofthe organization," Allan remarked.
"In a way you're right," replied the other, slowly; "that is, no truescout will ever seek a fight; but there may be times when he has toenter into one in order to defend himself, or save a comrade from beingbadly hurt. You know the twelve rules we all subscribed to when wejoined the Silver Fox Patrol, Allan? Suppose you run them over rightnow?"
"Oh! that's easy," laughed the second in command. "A scout must betrustworthy, loy
al, helpful to others, friendly, courteous, kind,obedient to his superiors, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean andreverent."
"Well, in order to be brave, and helpful to others, he may even have tofight; but he is expected only to resort to such extreme measures whenevery other means fail. And if those three roughs come playing theirjokes around our camp we'll try and speak decently with them first.Then, if that doesn't work, they'd better look out."
The way Thad snapped his teeth shut when saying those last few wordstold what he would be apt to do if forced into the last ditch bycircumstances over which he had no control.
"I hope we can coax Giraffe to quit trying to make fires all the time,"said Allan. "It's a dangerous thing to do in the woods. Why, up in Maineevery hunter has to employ a licensed guide just to make sure he doesn'tleave a camp-fire burning behind him when he breaks camp, which therising wind would scatter into the brush, so that valuable timber wouldbe burned, and heaps of damage done. I've stood my turn as a fire guardmyself in the Fall, and was hired by the State too."
"Listen, would you?" said Thad, just then; "what do you suppose is thematter between Bumpus and Step-hen now? The chances are he's gone andlost something again and is accusing poor old Bumpus of taking it. Let'swait for them here, and settle the trouble."
The two in question brought up the van of the trailing patrol. As theycame along Step-hen was venting his disgust as usual over the "mightyqueer way" _his_ things had of vanishing without anybody ever touchingthem.
"What's gone now, Step-hen?" asked Thad, as they came up, stillwrangling.
"Why, just to think," called out Bumpus, "he says I never gave him backthat new compass of his, after he showed me how it worked, before westarted on this hike; and I say I did. As if I'd want to take his sillycompass, when I learned how to tell north from the mossy side of a tree,and the way the sun hangs out up there."
"Well, I just can't find it on me anywhere," complained Step-hen; "andas I remembered showing it to Bumpus, I thought he was setting up a gameon me by hiding it somewhere about him. He wouldn't let me look in hispack, either, you know."
"Course I wouldn't!" cried the fat boy, indignantly; "because that'dlook like I half admitted the charge. Guess I know enough about law tounderstand that. Just you think real hard, Step-hen, and p'raps you'llremember where you put it; but don't throw it up at me, please."
The other grumbled something, but made no further charge. From thesuspicious way in which he looked at Bumpus out of the corners of hiseyes, it was plain that his mind was far from convinced, and thatmissing compass would be apt to make trouble during the whole trip.
The Boy Scouts' First Camp Fire; or, Scouting with the Silver Fox Patrol Page 3
