CHAPTER XVII LYNX LAW
Donald had asked anxiously several times how the night was going. As ascout he might possibly have been able to tell this fairly well by theposition of the heavenly bodies, particularly the planets; for everyscout is supposed to include this woodsman’s trick in his educationbefore he can call himself fit to wander at will in an unknownwilderness. But then Donald was hardly in a condition to depend onhimself, and so he several times whispered to Rob:
“Is it gitting alang toward eleven, wud ye mind tellin’ me?”
It was still far from that, but evidently the particular hour Donaldmentioned was wearing upon his mind, and he took counsel from his fears.Rob concluded that the long and heavily-laden munition freight was dueat the bridge about eleven. And at the steady progress they were makinghe felt pretty certain they would be in ample time to give warning,unless something cropped up to detain them, which Rob fervently hopedwould not be the case.
Tubby was still clinging to the rear, but doing nobly—for him. Even Andyfelt a tinge of justifiable pride in the work of the stout chum, becausehe knew what a handicap Tubby always labored under when energy andsustained effort had to be looked to in order to pull one through. Itmeant a whole lot more for Tubby to accomplish this swift tramp than toany one of the other fellows, injured Donald alone excepted.
If he puffed and wheezed occasionally that was no more than might beexpected. Every time Andy glanced over his shoulder on missing thesefamiliar sounds, a faint fear oppressing him that the other had fallenout of line, he discovered the stout chum in motion not far back of hisheels.
“Bully for Tubby; he’s all right!” Andy was saying to himself, forreally he had a deep and abiding affection for the good-natured one,even though addicted to “rubbing it in” occasionally, when an evilspirit moved him to play practical jokes.
Then it happened!
Donald came to a sudden halt, and uttered a low but disgusted grunt.
“What’s the matter; lost the trail?” whispered Rob, for that was thefirst and most natural explanation that appealed to him.
“We’re in hard luck, I ken!” muttered the pilot of the expedition.
“In what way?” demanded Rob.
“It’s a muckle sair job, wi’ that awfu’ creature barrin’ the way. If yelook, Rab, ye can see his yellow eyes gleamin’ up yonder in the tree.The beastie is crouchin’ on a lower limb, and right o’er the trail. Hewill nae let us pass by, I fear me.”
All of them heard what Donald said, and every pair of eyes wasimmediately turned toward the place just ahead that he indicated. Sureenough something glowed in the semi-darkness, something that seemed liketwin spots of phosphorus, about eight feet or so from the ground, and inconjunction with the lower limb of the big, bushy hemlock.
Even Tubby knew that only the orbs of the feline or cat species coulddisplay such glaring eyes in the night-time.
“Wow! a bobcat!” exclaimed Andy, fussing with his gun, though Robinstantly laid a detaining hand on his arm and hastily remarked:
“None of that sort of work, Andy, on your life, remember! It would ruinthe whole business with us! It’s a dangerous job to try to shoot a catwhen you can only see the glare of its eyes. Donald, what do you say?”
“First then, it is no common cat, but a big lynx, a fearsome creaturefor any man to tackle,” returned the young Canadian with completeassurance that told he knew what he was speaking about.
“Worse and worse!” grunted Andy, feeling a trifle disappointed becauseRob had laid down the law, for he aspired to some day kill such afighting monster as a full-grown Canada lynx, and it was too bad thatcircumstances over which he had no control were now fated to keep himfrom carrying out that somewhat ambitious desire.
Rob had been fumbling about his person, and suddenly there shot out asmall but intense ray of light. The scout master had thought to fetchalong with him that exceedingly useful little hand electric torch, andwas now putting the same to good service.
Tubby stood on his tiptoes in order to see better, for he chanced to bejust behind Andy, who somehow did not think to step aside. What hebeheld gave him a further quiver along the region of his spine, as Tubbyafterward admitted “just as if some malicious joker had suddenly emptieda bucketful of icy water down his back.”
There was no mistake about it. Crouching upon the limb of the hemlockthey could see the beast, much larger than any wildcat they had ever metin all their travels, and plainly marked with odd-looking tasselatedears, and the hairy growth so like whiskers, that distinguish the trueCanadian lynx.
The cat did not like that piercing glow from Rob’s dazzling light as wasevidenced by a low fierce growling sound. Tubby had often heard the pettomcat at home make that same noise when holding a captured sparrowbetween his teeth, and threatened by a rival and envious feline desirousof taking the prize away from the possessor.
At the same time the lynx showed no disposition to retreat, while theywould not dare venture along the trail, because in so doing they mustpass directly under its “roost,” as Andy called it.
Besides, Rob was not without caution, though on occasion he could bejust as dashing as the next one. There was always a time when discretionmight be deemed the better part of valor; and such an occasion nowconfronted them, Rob thought.
Donald, poor fellow, was figuratively speaking on “needles and pins,”what with his impatience to get on, and his knowledge of the dauntlesshabits of the animal that now disputed their right to that trail.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” said Rob decisively, for he was agreat believer in “taking the bull by the horns,” or cutting the Gordianknot when it could not be untied, just as Alexander the Great is said tohave done on occasion. “We must turn aside, and go around the brute. Lethim stay in the tree where he is, if that’s his game. All we want is toget along, and lose no more time than is necessary.”
Andy was heard to give a sigh. How he did hate to “knuckle down” to amiserable old lynx that considered them trespassers on his domain, andperhaps knew they were just invading Yankee boys who had crossed theline despite the law that forbade trespass on the part of foreigners.
“A gude idea, Rab!” exclaimed Donald, overjoyed. “Mair strength to yerelbow, man. And let us gang awa’ without anny more bother.”
“Oh, well, all right,” grumbled Andy, in a disgusted tone. “It’s hardlines, let me tell you.”
Tubby was not saying anything, but he did a heap of staring. He noticedthat as they left the trail and began to make a half circle so as topass around the big hemlock containing that audacious lynx, Robcontinued to play his electric torch so that its glow fell upon thecrouching beast. There was a double object in this, for not only couldthey keep watch over the animal, and feel assured it had not left thatlimb to follow them; but at the same time the lynx would have to remainunder the mystic spell of the glowing orb that dazzled it.
Andy kept his gun in readiness, for he was determined that should thebeast make any attempt at attacking them he could not be bound by anyorder which would prevent him from shooting. But there was no occasionfor violence. The lynx twisted its head around so as to follow theirpassage, but when last seen it had not even changed its position on thelimb. As Tubby told himself half humorously it “just seemed bent onseeing a disreputable rabble well off the premises,” when it could oncemore take up the necessary duty of securing a dinner.
Tubby was also concerned in casting his eyes about him in momentaryexpectation of discovering another pair of glowing eyes amidst thetangle of branches above; for he remembered that most cats hunt incouples, often surrounding their game. He was looking for the mate ofthe lynx in the hemlock, looking, but at the same time fervently prayingthat it would only be conspicuous by reason of its absence, for Tubbywas not at all fond of any sort of cats, domestic or wild.
All of them breathed sighs of satisfaction when they could no longer seeany sign of the ferocious four-foote
d hunter of the trail. Rob had nowextinguished his light, for he did not wish to needlessly exhaust thelittle battery; it had already proven worth its price, and was likely tocome in handy on still further occasions in the near future.
“Not much danger of his following after us, I suppose, Donald?” Robasked softly. He felt that the Canadian boy must be much betteracquainted with the characteristics of such a native animal than hecould boast of being.
“Na, I dinna think so. The beastie is satisfied to see us go around andleave him in possession. He is nae lookin’ after the likes o’ us justnoo. But I hae another trouble facin’ me.”
“You mean finding the trail again, don’t you, Donald?” asked Rob.
“Just so,” came the reply. “I know the general direction we must begoin’ till we reach the railway, but it wud be so much better if we wereable to continue alang the path.”
“We turned off to the right,” said the observing scout master, “and soit is bound to lie over on our left. You could tell when you struck it,I suppose, Donald?”
“Oh! ay, if on’y I could _see_,” the pilot assured him.
“Well, we’ll soon fix that part of it easy enough,” remarked Rob, andonce more he had recourse to his invaluable vest pocket edition of ahand torch.
He and Donald walked side by side, using their eyes to the bestadvantage as they slowly advanced. Rob, being a clever woodsman, couldpick out a trail that had been frequently used by passing human beingsand animals, even though he may never have previously set eyes on thespot himself. As for Donald, surely he ought to be able to equal thecousin scout from over the border, for he was quite at home in theseCanadian woods.
Andy, not being able to assist, was well contented to follow after thosein the lead, and let them shoulder all the responsibility. Andy had alittle weakness in this direction, which sometimes cropped up; and manyboys are apt to think it a good thing when they can get some one else toassume all the care, while on their part they go “scot free.”
Tubby was beginning to worry. He fancied they might have “roughsledding” ahead of them. Why, this even began to look a little as thoughthey were getting lost; at any rate, the _trail_ was lost, whichamounted to nearly the same thing. So Tubby was feeling that queersensation again in the region of his heart, which had begun to pumpdoubly fast. Tubby’s naturally timorous nature had never been fullyconquered, and there were plenty of occasions when it gave him muchtrouble. He feared lest he might be disgraced in the eyes of his chumsby appearing a coward, something he sincerely detested.
Several precious minutes passed. In vain did Tubby listen to hear eitherof the trail hunters declare that their efforts had met with success.
“Yes, I guess after all we must be lost!” the stout scout began to admitto himself forlornly; and, indeed, it looked rather serious.
The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border Page 17
