"We'll never get that old horse any higher up than this, Paul," said JudElderkin.
The scouts were sitting there with that fine panorama spread out beforethem, and eating a sort of pick-up lunch. At breakfast time enough foodhad been prepared to carry them along for another meal. After that Paulhad promised that they would very likely be in a permanent camp, andmight expect to have decent fare right along.
"Fact of the matter is, Jud," replied the leader of the expedition, "wedon't need to, fortunately."
"What's that, Paul; not going to camp right here, I hope?" questionedthe scout leader of the second patrol.
Jud shot a swift look across the country down below, and Paul smiledwhen he saw the direction of the glance.
"I understand what you mean," he remarked, immediately. "You imaginethat if we stayed here any length of time some of the tenderfeet wouldbe running away."
"Oh! well," Jud went on to say, "what would be the use of tantalizingthe poor chaps? Hear 'em disputing right now whether that shining thingthey see far away in the distance is the brass hand on the top of thechurch steeple in Stanhope, or the wind vane on the court house cupola?Anyhow, it stands for Stanhope; and if they were where they could stareout yonder by the hour some of 'em would skip before another night, I'mafraid."
"And you're just right, old fellow," Paul remarked. "I'm glad younoticed that sign, for we'd hate to have any desertions, now that we'vemade such a great start. But your other guess was away off. I haven'tthe slightest idea of holding over here."
"Then the road----" began Jud.
"Makes a bend just beyond," Paul broke in with, "and goes no further upthat way. This is the last peep any of us are likely to have of far-awayStanhope till we come out again on the way home."
"That's all right, then. Now that you mention it, I can see how the roaddoes take a turn a little way along. What do you suppose we're apt tostrike there, Paul? I'm more than anxious to get wise."
But the acting scoutmaster only shrugged his shoulders.
"You really don't know, then?" continued Jud.
"Only what I've heard. Some say there's a fine lake back here a fewmiles. And that's what I'm hoping to strike, for a spot to camp,"returned Paul.
"Well, I've heard that same thing," said Jud, slowly, "but never morethan half believed it. Just as like as not we'll find it only a duckpond. But a camp always seems more like the real thing if it's only nearwater."
"I always thought so," Paul admitted, "and I've been in a few dandycamps in my time. My people have gone up in Maine every Summer for along while, you know. But this year they are going to stay home for achange. Father hates to turn over his practice to any one else; and totell the truth I said I wanted to be right here."
"Bully for you, Paul. We all feel that we owe you a lot for the wayyou've stuck to us through thick and thin. We'd never have won thatbanner there if----"
But Paul would not listen.
"Stow that sort of talk, Jud!" he exclaimed. "I've done my best, but itwasn't any more than lots of the other fellows could do. If we'd gottenhold of Mr. Gordon in time he'd have made a better troop than we were.He knows a heap along many lines."
"Yes," remarked Jud, with a nod, "by theory, but I just bet you if itcame down to practice you could beat him out every time. But what was itI saw you doing at our last camp, just before we pulled up stakes?"
"I was leaving a letter for Mr. Gordon when he came along," repliedPaul, with a mysterious smile.
"What sort of a letter now, I'd like to know? Seemed to me you weremarking on a piece of birch bark, which you stuck on a stick close towhere our fire had been. And Paul," with a grin, "I had the curiosity totake a sly look at the same as I passed by."
"Yes. What did you see?" asked the patrol leader, quietly.
"Why, it looked to me like you'd gone back some years, and starteddrawing funny animals, and such things," replied Jud.
"Just what they were, old fellow," said Paul, confidentially; "but whenour scoutmaster takes one of these slips of bark up, he'll read whatI've marked on it just as you would a letter. He and I have becomedeeply interested in the old method of Indian picture writing, you see.Signs stand for words with them. A whole story can be made in a dozencharacters or groups."
"Oh! I remember something about that I read once," remarked Jud, with alook of deep interest; "and if you don't mind I wish you'd give me a fewpointers about that sign business, some time. I'd like to know, theworst kind."
"Oh! no trouble about that. All you have to do is to use your head alittle, and make your signs plain enough so that they can be understood.Now, I'm going to leave a letter for Mr. Gordon right here. Watch how Ido it," and Paul picked up a good-sized bit of clear bark he hadevidently prepared for the purpose.
"You see," he began, "I use a lead pencil because it's more convenient,that's all. If I didn't have it, I'd just take a black brand from thefire; or even scratch the characters on the smooth bark. And first ofall to tell him that twenty-one white soldier boys camped here."
He rapidly drew just that number of rude figures, diminutive enough tobe crowded around what was plainly a spread out luncheon. They had hatson their heads, and a flag was to be seen in the picture. A wagon and ahorse occupied one corner.
"Now," Paul went on, "you see that I've indicated these fellows spent abrief time here. He will understand that it was noon from the round sunI've drawn _directly above the cluster_. To show that they are eating Ihave made a coffee pot in the hand of one, though that was hardly thetruth, for we've had none this time. But I guess it's always allowableto stretch things _just a little_ in these picture stories. They werewhite because they all wear hats. Do you get it, Jud?"
"Easy as falling off a log. Why, I could read that myself, if I was lostand happened to fall into this place," replied Jud, positively.
"Sure you could," laughed Paul. "That's the object of this picturewriting; to make it so clear that anybody would know. We're not tryingto puzzle people now. This isn't what you'd call a cryptogram; not much.It's the primer of writing. A kid could tell what it all stood for. Andthese Indians are just like kids, you see."
"Well, go on," pleaded the leader of the second patrol, "I'm dead stuckon this thing, for I can see what lots of fun we will have with it up inthe woods. How are you going to tell Mr. Gordon that we hiked out ofhere, and headed due west from this point?"
"Oh!" answered Paul, readily enough, "I might use just the letter W; butyou see that wouldn't do for an Indian, who doesn't know what it means.To him west means the setting sun, just as east is signified by itsrising, and noon by an overhead disc. So suppose I draw a rude hand,with the finger pointing toward a sun that is half down behind a line?Wouldn't that be apt to tell him we went west from here?"
"Why, dead sure. He couldn't mistake that. The level line I take it ismeant for the horizon?" Jud continued, deeply impressed by thesimplicity of this method of communicating between separated friends.
"Yes. Well, now he knows which way we've gone. We don't know ourselvesjust how far we expect to hike this afternoon. It may be only a mile,and it may be two. But we want to tell him that we mean to go into camp,and that the setting sun will find us with our tents up, and a fireburning."
Paul, while speaking, started to once more make some marks on thebalance of the smooth bark, which he had himself peeled from a nearbybirch.
"There," he presently declared, holding the pad up, "you see how I'vemade the camp. The tents are set, supper cooking, and just twenty-onelittle marks tell that so many soldiers are around the fire, all butthree who stand guard. And in beyond, the sun is going down, almost outof sight in fact. No trouble about such a simple story, eh, Jud?"
"It's as plain as a book, plainer than most I've ever read. No gettingmixed up in such a story. But I'm wondering what that big circle closeto the camp means?" and Jud pointed as he spoke.
"Oh! I'm glad you spoke. Mr. Gordon himself might well wonder what thatwas, for I left out the most important part. Now watch,
and tell me ifyou can hit it," with which remark Paul made several tiny dashes withhis pencil.
Jud gave an exclamation of delight.
"Boats--real Injun bark canoes, as sure as you live!" he observed.
"And boats don't run on dry land as a rule, do they, Jud?" Paul went on.
"Well, not so you could notice. That circle then, must be our lake, orpond, we ain't so sure which, yet. The story is now complete, Paul fromstart to finish. But sometimes it must be hard to tell things thathappened."
"That's where the fun comes in," Paul continued; "lots of happeningsmake a fellow sit up and take notice, when he tries to picture them soplainly that the other can read it right off the reel. I had a tough nutto crack this morning."
"About that little adventure of Tom Betts in the river," interruptedJud. "Tell me how you did it. A crooked little mark would show theriver; but I'm blessed if I can see how you made out the drowning act,and the rescue."
"I'll tell you how I did it," Paul went on; "and when Mr. Gordon comeswe'll find out if he understood my letter, or thought it meantsomething else. I'm only a beginner in this business, you know, andexpect to improve, for I see where we can have lots of fun out of it."
"But the letter?" said Jud, impatiently.
"In the river I had several of the boy scouts bathing. All had theirhands down but one, whose arms were up over his head. That told of hisbeing in danger. Then on the bank I showed a ring around two, one on theground. Just beyond these, two were moving off, arm in arm. That oughtto tell him that the drowned boy recovered. And when the company formedto go on the road I was _very_ particular to have the exact twenty-onein line. How's that?"
"Great," cried Jud, excitedly; "you've got me head over ears in thispicture writing business, and I'm going to study it up. There's a bookhome that has a lot about it. Me to swallow the same when we get back.And while we're up here I'm going to get you and our scoutmaster toteach me what you know."
"All right," laughed Paul, getting up. "Now notice that I stick thiswhere he will be sure to see it. And perhaps we'd better be on the hikeonce more, because we don't know what we've got ahead of us. NumberThree, give the call to break camp!"
Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour, Page 20
