CHAPTER VII.
THE MESSAGE OF THE SPLIT STICK.
A TEMPORARY halt had been called, and the scouts were consulting as towhat this new development might mean.
"Sure you saw a man, are you, Bumpus?" asked Giraffe, as though he hadan idea the stout boy might have deceived himself. "Twa'n't a rollingstone, now, I take it? Or it couldn't have been a frisky little 'coon'or 'possum,' I suppose?"
"Well, what d'ye think I've got eyes for, if I don't know a biped when Isee one?" retorted Bumpus, indignantly. "He was as plain as anything;and makin' from one pile of rocks to another. You go with me back there,and I'll show you, Giraffe. Then you'll believe me when I say a thing."
The two boys made a move as if to carry out this project, only thescoutmaster put a stop to it.
"Don't think of doing that, fellows," Thad said, quickly. "Thesemountaineers are a thin-skinned lot as far as I've been able to learn;and they won't stand for any poking of your nose into their business.Besides, if it was a man, the chances are he would be armed, and youmight bring a hornet's nest down about our ears."
"Oh! he did have a gun, all right," remarked Bumpus, carelessly.
"You didn't mention that before," broke in Step Hen, with an intaking ofbreath that betrayed excitement.
"'Cause nobody asked me; and every one wanted to have something to say,"retorted the other. "It was a gun, and an _awful_ wicked looking onetoo, about as long as my staff, seemed to me."
"Could it have been Old Phin?" suggested Allan.
"How about that, Bumpus; was he an old man with a gray beard?" askedThad.
"Nixey; that is I don't know how old he might a been; but I'm dead surehe didn't have any beard at all, just a smooth face. But he was aregular mountaineer, all right, Thad, with the dingy old faded brownhomespun clothes, the slouch hat, and the ragged pants that never camenear his brogans. He saw me lookin' at him, for he put on a littlespurt, and dodged behind that pile of rocks, where like as not he'ssquattin' right now, waitin' to see what we're agoin' to do about it,and ready to speak to us with that trusty weapon if we try to rush hisfort."
"Well, we're going to do nothing of the kind, just remember that," saidThad, resolutely. "It's only natural that the men of these mountainsshould feel a whole lot of curiosity about us. I suppose now they neverheard of the Boy Scouts; and these uniforms make them think we'reconnected with the army. Now, we don't want to stir them up any morethan we can help. They're an ugly lot, Bob here says, if you rub the furthe wrong way. We didn't come down here to bother these moonshiners onewhit; and if they'll only let us alone, we want to keep our hands offtheir affairs. Let the fellow dodge after us if he wants to; he'll findthat we're only a bunch of happy-go-lucky boys, off for a holiday."
"Pity we can't meet up with that same old Phin, and tell him as much,"Smithy went on to say.
"Perhaps it might be managed easy enough," Allan observed, and all ofthem immediately turned toward him, feeling that he had some scheme tocommunicate.
"Open up, and tell us what it is, Allan," urged the impatient Bumpus.
"Yes, don't keep us guessing any more than you can help," added StepHen. "We've sure got enough to worry us, what with the troubles ofGiraffe getting stuck in that quicksand; and Davy here, falling overevery old precipice he can find, without you making us puzzle out aproblem. How could it be done, Allan?"
"Why, we'll send Old Phin a letter," replied the other, calmly.
"Show me your messenger, then!" demanded Bumpus.
Allan picked up a stick, and deliberately split one end so that he couldopen it up. This he thrust into a crevice in the rocks close to thewretched road, and in such a position that it was certain to meet theeye of the tracker when he again started to follow them.
"Now, I'll write a few lines, and leave it here, addressed to PhinDady," he went on. "I'll print the words in capitals, in the hopes thatthe old mountaineer may be able to read as much as that. If he can't,then some other of the clan may; and if all else fails, they'll havesome boy or girl make it out. How's that, Thad?"
"Splendid, I should say," replied the scoutmaster, smiling. "Here,Bumpus, turn around, and bend over."
"What you goin' to do to me?" demanded the short scout, suspiciously, ashe hesitated before complying.
"Is that the way you obey orders?" scoffed Giraffe. "A true scout shouldnever ask questions. S'pose them dragoons at the battle of the SixHundred had begun to want to know the whys and wherefores of everything,d'ye think we'd ever had any chance to declaim that stirring poem?Shame on you, Bumpus, take a brace, and obey blindly."
"Oh! I only want the use of your broad and steady back for a writingdesk, so Allan can get his message written," Thad at this interestingjuncture remarked, easing the strain, and dissipating all the fat boy'ssuspicions.
When Allan had made out to complete his "message" he read it aloud, andalso let them all have a look at it. Just as he had said he would do, hehad written it in the most primitive way possible, by making capitals ofeach letter. This was what he had done:
"Phin Dady--We are a patrol of Boy Scouts, come down from the North tosee the Carolina mountains. We do not mean you, or any one, harm; butwant to be friends. We carry no arms but a single shotgun."
"That ought to answer the purpose," remarked Thad, approvingly.
"I didn't want to say too much, you see," observed the author of themessage, as he fastened it in the crotch of the riven stick, where itmust attract the attention of any one passing. "First, I had a notion tomention Bob's name, as a former resident; and then I remembered that hesaid he didn't want it known he'd come back. So I left that out."
"And I'm glad you did," said the one in question, hastily; "it wouldhave done no good, suh, believe me; and might have brought us into muchtrouble."
Again Thad saw him send that expressive glance his way; and hissuspicions concerning Bob having another secret which he had not as yettold, received further confirmation.
"This, you know, fellows," remarked Allan, "is the way the Indianscommunicated in the old days; only instead of writing it out as we do,they used to make signs that stood for men, camp-fires, rivers, woods,animals, trails and such things. You remember, Thad here gave us sometalk about that awhile back. Now, are we going on again, since we'veleft our wonderful message for Old Phin?"
"Yes, and perhaps we'd better keep somewhat closer together than we'vebeen doing up to now," the scoutmaster suggested.
"How'd it do for Giraffe here to stay behind, and watch to see if thatfeller back of the rock pile gets the letter?" Bumpus proposed. "Afterwe turned that bend ahead he could drop down, and creep back. Then,after he'd seen all he wanted, why it wouldn't be any great shake forsuch a long-legged feller to overtake the rest of the bunch."
But Giraffe evidently did not like the idea of being left all by himselfafter that fashion. He looked worried as he waited to see what Thadwould say; and was considerably relieved when the other shook his head,remarking:
"No need of that, Number Three. It wasn't such a bad idea though, cometo think of it, and does you credit. I'm glad to see that you're wakingup, and beginning to work your brain more. But that message will getinto the hands of Old Phin, all right, there's no doubt of that."
"D'ye reckon he'll take our word for it; or believe it's only one moreclever dodge of the revenue men to get him when he's napping?" askedDavy Jones.
The scoutmaster turned to Bob White.
"How about that, Bob?" he asked.
"Old Phin is narrow minded, as you can easily understand," the Southernboy replied. "Besides, he's had so many smart dodges played on him, thathe'll never believe anybody's word. Now, he may make up his mind thatbecause we're only boys he needn't be afraid we expect to capture him;but all the same, we might poke around here, meaning to destroy hisStill, suh. You can depend upon it that Old Phin'll never make friendswith any one that wears a uniform. That stands for an enemy in his eyes.But I'm hopin' suh, that he'll just conclude to let us alone, and go toone of his mountain
hide-outs, to stay till we leave the neighborhood."
They were by now tramping along again. Trying to forget the ugly part ofthe affair, Thad was picturing in his mind what the home of ReubenSparks might be like. He was a rich man, Bob had said, and in closetouch with the moonshiners; though the Government had never been ableto connect him with any of the illicit Stills that had been raided fromtime to time during the last dozen years. And so it was only natural tobelieve that he must have surrounded himself with some of the comfortsof civilization, while remaining in this wild region. Words let fall byBob had given Thad this impression; as though they were going to besurprised when the home of little Cousin Bertha was come upon.
"I'd like to have a little talk with you, Thad!"
The scoutmaster was not very much surprised when he heard these words,and realized that Bob White had caught up with him as he strode along atthe head of the little squad of boys in khaki.
"He just couldn't hold in any longer," was what Thad whispered tohimself; "and now he's bound to let down the bars all the way, sosomebody will share his secret with him."
Turning upon the other, he said, pleasantly:
"Why, as many as you like, Bob; what's bothering you now; for I've seenyou looking my way quite some time, as though you wanted to speak. Iguess you'll feel better when you've had it out."
"Perhaps I may, suh, though I'm ashamed to have kept it from you solong," answered the Southern boy, shame-facedly. "Fact is, I tried todeceive myself into thinking that it couldn't interest or concern any ofmy chums. But now, since I've been thinking it all over, and we've runacross Old Phin, it looks different to me, and I'm of the opinion I hadought to have mentioned this before I took the lot of you down intothese danger mountains!"
Thad knew then that it could be no trifling thing that would agitate theother as this seemed to do, and he steadied himself to meet thedisclosure.
Boy Scouts in the Blue Ridge; Or, Marooned Among the Moonshiners Page 7
