CHAPTER XXIII
WHAT THE EYES OF A SCOUT MAY SEE
"What damage was done last night?" asked Jack, as he and Paul walkedaround the camp, while the cooks of the several patrols were engaged ingetting breakfast over fires built after that clever fashion, partly inholes in the ground.
"Well," replied his chum, "outside of Jud's bruised arm that willhandicap him a bit in his work; and one hole through the fly that servesas our mess tent; I haven't been able to find anything. But I picked upseveral stones that must have come down, and they were big enough tohurt if they had hit any of us."
"What ought we to do?" asked Jack.
"For one I think we've just got to change our way of handling thosefellows. The more we try to argue, and hold out the olive branch, theworse they get. I hate to tell the boys we've reached the end of therope; but what else is left?" and Paul, as he spoke, shook his head, anddrew a long breath.
"Oh! nothing but give tit for tat," returned Jack, without a pause, asif his mind had long been made up. "Why, even a Quaker will fight ifforced to defend his honor; or some bully attacks his family. They say aworm will turn; which you mustn't take to mean that we are grubs."
"Well," declared Paul, "to-night we'll have a watch set, and if they trythat sort of thing again, perhaps they'll find two can play at abombardment."
The welcome call to breakfast broke in on their dialogue; and beingpossessed of the ordinary boy's appetite, both Paul and his chum werenot at all backward about dropping into their places around the rudetable.
Of course pretty much all the talk during the meal was about theunprovoked and cowardly attack of the preceding night. Every time a boycast his eyes upward, and saw the sky through the ragged hole in thecanvas cover, he was noticed to grit his teeth, and look angry.
But Paul assured them that he had a plan ready whereby they could put astop to this rough treatment. Knowing him as they did, the scouts feltsure he had been driven to the limit of his forbearance. Having gone asfar as their code called for in the effort to keep the peace, they wouldcertainly be justified in taking the law into their own hands from thistime forth.
"Forget it all until night comes, fellows," said Paul, finally, whenthey had talked the subject threadbare. "Meanwhile don't think you'regoing to get any sort of a nap to-day. There will be something doingevery minute of the time from now up to supper call. And to begin with,let the dishwashers get busy right away, so as to clear the decks foraction."
As every one had satisfied his appetite, and just then cared littlewhether there was ever such a thing as eating again, they were not sorryto leave the mess tent.
The camp was quickly a scene of animation. Some fellows were busy withcameras, seeking enticing subjects for views that would do them creditwhen the results of the great hike were examined by a committee lateron. Others set about making preparations for the various duties to whichthey had been assigned. Paul kept his finger on the pulse of everythingthat took place.
He sent one squad along the shore of the lake to try the fishing.Another was engaged in forming a rude raft so that they could havesomething on which to paddle around from time to time. Still anothergroup followed Paul and Wallace to hunt for signs of the raccoons theyhad heard during the preceding night.
Each boy of the bunch was expected to jot down in his note-book thevarious interesting things they came across as they tramped. Paul gavea few hints; but he wanted them to think it out for themselves.
The most observing would make mention of dozens of things that mightnever attract the eye of the novice in woodcraft. He would state thespecies of trees he noticed on either hand; the formation of the rocks,the result perhaps of a former hurricane that leveled many old trees,and the direction which it must have passed along over this country; hewould find a multitude of things to mention in the sap-sucker thattapped the dead limb of a tree; the wise crow that cawed at them from adistance; the flashing bluejay that kept just ahead of them; the redsquirrel and the little chipmunks that scurried over the ground, towatch with bright eyes from the shelter of some tree, or hummock ofup-tilted stones.
There was absolutely no limit to the list of interesting subjects thatan observing lad could find to fill pages upon pages in his memorandumbook. After he had returned home again how pleasant it would be to readanew these notes, and realize that he could not be termed blind when hepassed along the trail.
And then the tracks of the little woods animals, how interesting it wasto hunt for them close to the border of the water, where they could beplainly seen in the soft mud.
At first one seemed pretty much like another to the greenhorns; buteither Paul or Wallace, who had studied these things before, pointed outthe difference; and after that lesson the other fellows could easilytell the tracks of a raccoon from those of a mink or a 'possum, for theyfound them all.
After that Paul took pains to explain just how differently the imprintof a dog's or a cat's foot looked when compared with those of the wildwoods folks. These two were so much alike that Bobolink remarked uponthe fact.
"How can you tell them apart, Paul?" he asked, looking at the printsmade by the scout leader in the mud.
"That's easy," replied Paul, "if you notice that the dog leaves thetrack of his nails every time; while puss, well, she sheathes her clawswhile she walks, keeping them sharp for business when she sights asparrow or a young rabbit."
"But look here, what's this funny track here? Some baby must have putits hand down in the mud; but that's silly, of course. Whatever madethese, Paul?" asked Philip Towne, pointing ahead to a spot they had asyet not visited.
Paul took one look, and smiled. He turned to Wallace, who noddedinstantly.
"A muskrat made those tracks, boys," observed Paul; "you see he leavesmarks entirely unlike any others we've seen. And here is where ourfriend, Mr. Crow, came down from his perch where he's been scolding usso long. He wanted a drink perhaps; or expected to pick up a breakfastalong the edge of the water, from insects that have been washed ashore."
All these things were very attractive to the boys.
"This thing gets better and better the deeper you climb into it,"declared Bobolink, as he wrote away for dear life, jotting down all hecould remember of what he had heard.
Some of the boys even made rude but effective diagrams of the varioustracks, so that they would have the proof to show if ever a disputearose concerning the difference between the several species.
Many other things did Paul and Wallace bring to their attention. Why, itseemed as though one had only to turn around up on the side ofRattlesnake Mountain to discover new and wonderful facts that these boysnever dreamed of before.
"Where do you suppose this old pile of rocks ever got its name, Paul?"asked one of the scouts, as he looked up at the frowning crest farabove.
"I really don't know," replied Paul; "I took the trouble to ask a numberof people too, who have lived around Stanhope for scores of years, andthey couldn't tell me; they said it had always gone by that name, andsupposed that once it was a regular rattlesnake den."
"Why, yes," interrupted Jud Elderkin; "one man told me he rememberedwhen there was a queer chap lived up here, a cripple too, who in thosedays used to put in all his time hunting rattlesnakes for their skins,which were used to make pocketbooks and slippers and belts out of; andhe sold the oil, too."
"Oil?" exclaimed Bobolink, "now, what do you mean by that? Do they useit for lamps, or watches, like they do porpoise oil?"
"How about that, Wallace?" asked Paul, seeing that the reader of theCarberry Twins gave evidence of possessing knowledge along those lines.
"Good for rheumatism, they say," observed Wallace; "athletes also use itto limber up their limbs. It has a commercial value. Some men make abusiness of hunting rattlesnakes pretty much all the year."
"Excuse me from the job then," said Bobolink, making a wry face. "Ugh! Ihate the sight of a snake! Say, you don't think there might be a littlebunch of the nasty scaly monsters left over from the old cripple'
s hunt,do you, Paul?"
"I hope we won't run across any," returned the patrol leader, soberly;"for it's no fun getting struck by the fangs of a rattlesnake. I'venever had that bad luck, and I give you my word I'm not hankering afteran experience, either."
"But then it might happen to one of us," retorted Bobolink; "and as awise general I hope you've thought of bringing a gallon or two of strongdrink along. That seems to be the only thing that can save a poor fellowwhen he's been jabbed by one of these twisters; anyhow, that's what I'veread about it."
"You're away off then, Bobolink," laughed Paul; "for we haven't a dropof liquor in camp. There's a better way to counteract a snake bite; andI intend telling the whole troop when we gather at lunch to-day, as wellas distribute some little packets I made up, under my father'sdirections."
"But go on," demanded Jud, "now that you've said so much. If arattlesnake jumped out of those bushes there, and gave me a jab on theleg, how ought I go about it to keep from keeling over? I want to know,and I ain't from Missouri, either!"
"Well," Paul started to say, "in the first place you ought to know thatno rattlesnake ever jumps out at anybody. At the slightest sign ofdanger he coils up, and sounds his policeman's rattle, which is just asnear like the buzzing of a big locust as you can get it."
"Say, that's why they call a policeman's club his locust, ain't it?"interrupted Bobolink; at which Paul smiled and nodded.
"If you should get excited on hearing this warning, and rush straight atthe snake, not seeing him, why he'd get you. The first thing to do is tofree your leg from all clothing, if he struck you, and tie a bandagetight above the mark where his fangs hit. Then get down yourself, or ifyou have a chum along, and you always will up here, according to theorders to hunt in pairs, have him suck the wound as hard as he can,spitting out the poison."
"Good gracious!" cried Bobolink, "but won't he get the dope instead ofyou, then?"
"It would never hurt him," answered Paul, quickly, "unless he happens tohave a cut about his mouth. If that is the case he must never try tosuck a snake bite. Hot water will help nearly as well as sucking. Thenuse some of the strong ammonia that is in a little bottle, to burn thewound. Never mind the pain, for your life is in danger. Another bottleholds some aromatic spirits of ammonia, which can be taken inwardly, asit is useful to keep up the strength and nerve of the wounded fellow."
"Is that all?" asked the interested Jud.
"Pretty much all," Paul went on. "Don't keep on the tight cord orbandage more than an hour, for it stops circulation, and might bring onmortification, father says. Ease up on it for a bit. The arm will stinglike fun, but stand it. If the patient shows signs of collapse, tightenthe cord again for a time. Do this several times until you can take thecord off for good."
"Oh! I see," said Bobolink; "by that time the poor chap will either berecovered or else have kicked the bucket. But I do hope none of us getmixed up with one of that old cripple hunter's left-overs. I'm going tokeep my eyes about all the while."
"That's a good idea," declared Paul, laughing; "and every fellow oughtto follow suit. But let's go back to the camp now, boys. We've had aboutas much as anybody can cram into their head at one time."
"Here, Paul, please take a look at these marks, and tell me what sort ofan animal made 'em!" called out Jud, who had been bending over, half onhis knees, as if deeply interested in what he had found.
All of them hurried to the spot.
"Perhaps he's found the spoor of a runaway elephant!" suggestedBobolink, wickedly, with that passing circus in mind.
"More'n likely," observed Philip Towne; "it's a wildcat that's beenprowling around the camp. Once, when I crawled out to take my watch, Ithought I saw a pair of yellow eyes staring at me over the edge of thatlittle cliff back of the tents."
Paul made no remark. He was himself bending over now, and looking at theground just where Jud pointed. Those who were watching him saw Paulstart, and look closer.
"It must be a lynx; or perhaps a regular old panther has come down herefrom the North Woods," said Bobolink, really beginning to believe such athing might be so.
"Hardly," remarked Paul; "but all the same it may mean trouble for us.You can see that these tracks were made by a man, for he had a foot muchlonger than any of the scouts; and boys, I'm afraid he's been hangingaround our camp for some purpose!"
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