The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border

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The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border Page 2

by John Henry Goldfrap


  CHAPTER II RUMBLINGS OF COMING TROUBLE

  “Oh! Did you see that hump on his back, Rob? What could it have been?”gasped Tubby, gripping the sleeve of the other’s khaki coat in hisexcitement.

  “Why, Tubby, don’t you know that was the pirate of the northern woods?”cried the equally aroused Andy, who had also been stupefied while thelittle drama was being enacted, and only recovered the use of his hands,and realized that he was carrying a gun, when the leaping buck hadcompletely vanished from view.

  “Do you mean a filibuster?” asked the stout boy incredulously.

  “Well, yes; you might call a panther by that name,” laughed Rob.

  “A panther!” echoed Tubby, thrilled more than ever. “Was that what thebunch across the poor deer’s shoulders was, Rob? Oh, to think we didn’tget a chance to use a gun and save the noble buck!”

  “It all happened too fast for me,” admitted Andy dejectedly. “Besides, Idon’t believe any of us could have hit that crouching beast and notharmed the deer.”

  “No, that’s right, Andy,” said Rob convincingly. “After all, we onlychanced to see one of the woods tragedies that are taking place rightalong. Panthers must have meat to live on, and deer are their legitimateprey. That’s why there’s never a close season on the gray buccaneers,nor on wildcats and wolves.”

  Tubby did not express any timidity in words, but it might have beennoticed how he somehow managed to keep a bit closer to his chums afterthat. If there were such savage “varmints” at large in the country alongthe International Boundary, Tubby did not think it wise to take anyunnecessary chances; not that he would have admitted being _afraid_, ofcourse; but then, as he always said, he offered a shining mark, becausea discriminating beast was sure to pick out a plump morsel when foragingfor a dinner, and consequently lucky Andy would get off scot-free.

  They continued to walk on in a clump, and chatting as they advanced,though Rob kept his eyes and senses constantly on the alert for signsthat would tell him what he wished to know.

  “I’ve heard a lot about the Maine woods, and how all sorts of peoplemanage to get a fair living from them, winter or summer,” Tubby wassaying later on. “Rob, you know something of such things, because you’vebeen up here before. How about it?”

  “It’s just as you say,” Rob replied. “Thousands on thousands of men findways to wring a living from Nature’s storehouse up here in the greatpine forests. I’ve met some of them personally, and asked questions.I’ve been told all about the others, and what interesting stunts theydo.”

  “Tell us a little about them, please, Rob?” urged Tubby.

  “Well,” began the scout leader, always willing to oblige his chums whenit was within his power to accommodate, “first of all there are thethousands of guides, both natives and Indians, who in summer takeparties along the waterways of Maine in canoes, fishing for trout, bass,or salmon in the countless streams and lakes; and in the fall serve thehunters in their camps, when they are after deer and moose. They go tomake up quite a little army in themselves, and their wages amount tomany hundreds of thousands of dollars per annum. Next in order andimportance, I expect, is the gum-hunter.”

  “Well, I declare, what is a gum-hunter, anyway, Rob?” demanded thelistening Tubby. “I’ve heard of a gumshoe man; but do hunters go shodthat way in the Maine woods?”

  That allowed Andy, better posted, to have another little explosion,

  “Oh, dear innocent, trusting soul, you’ll be the death of me yet!” hegasped, between his fits of laughter. “For pity’s sake, Rob, tell himquickly what a gum-hunter is, or he’ll surely burst with curiosity.”

  “You must know, Tubby,” said Rob, himself smiling broadly, “that sprucegum is used in immense quantities, not only in the manufacture ofchewing gum but for several other purposes.

  “It is found here in the pine woods of Maine by expert searchers, who ata certain season of the year go forth and gather their harvest. Theyprobably make good wages at their work, too, or there would not be somany of them keeping at it year after year. Some other time I’ll gofurther into details, and tell you how they find the deposits of gum.Some of them even gash trees, and come back in due season to garner thecrystal profits that have exuded from the wounds. But the gum-hunter isonly one of many chaps who earn a living in these Maine forests. Thereis the hoop-hole man you’re apt to run across in any section where ithappens there’s a second-growth crop of ash saplings.”

  “What does he do, Rob?” asked Tubby.

  “He gathers the saplings, and occupies his evenings in camp by splittingand assorting and fastening them in bundles. These are later taken awayin bulk. They are intended as hoops for barrels, nail-kegs, and suchobjects. The hoop man does a cracking big business in season, let metell you.

  “Then there’s the man who gets out the poles themselves to be used forvarious purposes; the fellow who hunts for certain crooked woodscalculated to make good boats’ knees; the sassafras hunter; the ginsengand other root man, who knows where to pick up a little fortune indiscovering patches of wild weeds that possess a marketable value whenthe roots are dug and properly cured; the herb gatherer; and last butfar from least the bee man, who goes about looking for hives of wildbees in hollow tree-tops, so he can gather hundreds of pounds of honey.”

  Tubby looked helplessly around him.

  “Well, well,” he was heard to say, “you never would believe fortunescould be dug out of such forlorn-looking woods as these. It’s simplywonderful what some men can pick up, when others are as blind as bats inthe daytime. I’m going to keep my eyes open. We might run across adiamond field.”

  “Well, you may mean that as a joke,” said Rob, “but rare gems have beenfound around here, which brings up another calling that some men havefollowed. That is searching all the streams for mussels, because somepretty valuable fresh-water pearls have been discovered, they say, inMaine bivalves.”

  “It beats all creation how many sources of revenue a smart man canunearth, if only he keeps his wits about him,” remarked Andy, who,apparently, was hearing this last bit of information for the first time.“If this terrible war continues much longer there’s likely to be anotherlot of professionals working industriously up here in the woods ofMaine. They’ll be the friends of the Central Empires, who want to giveOld England and her Colonies a backhanded blow by cutting off the supplyof munitions and supplies that keeps on flowing toward the coast dayafter day.”

  “Oh, why can’t the nations of the Old World keep the peace like it’sbeen kept for a hundred years between Uncle Sam and his big northernneighbor?” sighed the tender-hearted Tubby sincerely. “Here’s a boundaryof over three thousand miles, and not a single fort to mark the dividingline; whereas over across the water, look at the enormous fortressesFrance and Belgium and Germany have maintained, though none of theBelgians’ stood the awful pounding of those enormous guns brought up bythe Kaiser’s troops.”

  “There’s a good reason for that, Tubby,” explained Rob. “Americans andCanadians speak the same tongue, and as a whole have the sameaspirations. They understand each other, you see. It’s different over inEurope, where different nations hate like poison. We don’t seem to meetwith the same measure of success down along our Mexican border, becausethose greasers never can understand our motives, for we think alongentirely opposite lines.”

  “When are we going to have a great World Peace, and war be abolished?”begged Tubby, almost piteously.

  “Search me!” said Andy. “Because I don’t believe such a thing ever willbe, as long as human nature is like it is; though of course _I_’d beglad to see it brought about. If the nations of the world could onlyform some sort of practical union, like that of the States now, and sowere bound to keep the peace, it might be done. Happy the man who has ahand in such a vast undertaking. If the chance came to me to handle thesteering wheel of such a glorious job, why, I’d feel as lofty as—as thathawk soaring right now away up there in the blu
e heavens!”

  Tubby mechanically followed the extended finger of the speaker, and thenuttered a sudden startled cry.

  “Hawk!” he ejaculated derisively. “That shows _your_ ignorance, Andy.Hawk, do you say? Why, bless your simple and confiding nature, don’t youknow that object away up near the fleecy white clouds, and heading duenorth at this minute, is nothing more or less than an _aeroplane_? Rob,am I right?”

  Rob was himself staring upward, and he hastened to reply:

  “That’s just what it is, Tubby. After seeing so many of those mosquitoesof the upper air currents soaring above the hostile armies across thebig pond, you are able to tell one the minute you glimpse it. Yes,that’s an aeroplane, as certain as that we are standing here gaping upat it. I want you to notice that it’s heading directly so as to crossthe International Boundary line.”

  “What does that mean, Rob?” questioned Andy curiously, meanwhilecontinuing to crane his neck.

  “Well, I’m only making a guess,” Rob ventured. “The chances are thatpilot up yonder may be connected with some vile plot to destroy railroadproperty in the Dominion of Canada, and is now bent on spying out theland so as to make a chart of the country.”

 

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