CHAPTER XII
WAS IT A BURSTING METEOR?
"Who hit me?" exclaimed Bobolink, rubbing his eyes as he gained his feetand looked around at the dimly-seen forms of the other scouts; for themoon had by now sunk behind the horizon.
"What busted?" demanded Nuthin. "I bet it was that bottle of raspberryvinegar my sister put in my knapsack. It's gone sour, and exploded, sureas anything."
Strange to say, none of the others even bothered laughing at such afoolish remark as this. They stared at the clear sky overhead, and thetwinkling stars looking down upon them, just as though winking to eachother, and enjoying the confusion of the valiant scouts.
Even Paul, who generally knew everything, seemed mystified.
"I declare if I can tell what it was," he said upon being appealed to bysome of the others in the group. "I was sound asleep, like the rest ofyou, when all of a sudden it seemed as if the end of the world had come.I felt the ground shake under me and as I opened my eyes it seemed as ifI was nearly blinded. The flash came and went just like lightning, andthat bang was what would pass for thunder in a storm; but for the life ofme I can't see any sign of trouble up there."
"And we don't hear anything more; do we?" demanded Jud.
"Sounded like a big cannon to me," remarked Jack.
"Couldn't be that the State troops are out, and having manoeuvres, with asham battle, could it?" questioned Gusty Bellows.
"Well, hardly, without somebody knowing about it. And they generally takeup that sort of thing later in the year. There's only one explanationthat sounds a bit reasonable to me," Paul went on.
"Tell us what that is, then?" asked Bobolink.
"I've heard about meteors falling, and exploding when they hit theearth," the scout master went on to say.
"That's right!" echoed Jack; "and say, they're always accompanied by adazzling light, as they shoot through space, burning the air along withthem. Yes, siree, that must have been a big meteor stone."
"Then it struck the earth right close to our camp, mark me," vowed Jud.
"Ain't I glad it didn't pick out this spot to drop on," crowedNuthin. "Whew! guess we'd have been squashed flatter than that pancakeyou hear about."
"What are meteors made up of--they drop from stars; don't they?"asked Bob Tice.
"Oh! there's just millions and billions of 'em flying around loose," saidPhil Towns, who liked to read of astronomy at times. "Lots of 'em happento get caught in the envelope of air that surrounds the earth. Then theyfall victims to the force of gravitation, and come plunging down at suchspeed that they do really burn the air, just like Jack said. You see,they're made up for the most part of metals, and our old earth draws 'emlike a monster magnet."
"Is that what shooting stars are?" Bob went on to ask.
"Why, yes, they're really small meteors. We often pass through a mess of'em. I've counted hundreds in a single night," Phil continued, alwayswilling to give any information he could along his favorite study.
"Well, they say lightning don't strike in the same place twice; and thatgoes with your old buzzing meteors too, I reckon; so what's the use inour staying up any longer?" remarked Bobolink, who seemed quite satisfiedwith the explanation Paul had given of the queer noise, and the flash ofbrilliant light.
So they crawled back into their snug nests, and tried to composethemselves for sleep. But it is extremely doubtful whether a single oneof those eighteen boys secured so much as a decent cat-nap between thathour and dawn.
Despite their apparent belief in the explanation of the phenomenonadvanced by Paul, the boys could not get rid of the notion that thattremendous crash had something to do with the strange things told aboutthe haunted island, and which helped to give it its bad name.
They were up pretty early, too. The first birds were beginning to chirpin the brush when figures came crawling out of the tents, with a greatstretching of arms, and long yawns.
Then the lake tempted many of the boys, and a great splashing announcedthat those who could swim were enjoying a morning dip while others weretaking a lesson in learning the first rudiments in the art; for Paulwanted every scout in Stanhope Troop to be able to swim and dive beforethe Fall came on.
The scout master himself watched the proceedings, hardly able to get hisown dip because of his anxiety concerning those who, for the time being,had been placed in his charge.
This thing of being responsible for seventeen lively boys is not all thatit may be cracked up to be; especially if the acting scout master is aconscientious chap, alive to his duties. Paul felt the weight of theload; but he did not shrink.
Breakfast was presently under way, and nobody found any fault whenBobolink announced that he meant to instruct Nat Smith and another boyjust how to go about making those delicious flapjacks for which hehimself had become famous.
In the cooking contests, at the time the Stanhope Troop carried off theirbanner in competition with the troops of Manchester and Aldine, Bobolinkhad easily outclassed all rivals when it came to the science of campcookery, and his flapjacks were admitted without a peer, so that eversince, when the boys had an outing, there was always a shout when it wasfound that Bobolink was willing to get a mess of cakes ready for theirattention.
Although most of the boys had looked a bit peaked, and even haggard, whenthey first issued from the tents, this had long since vanished. Thefrolic in the cool water, and now this feast in the open, proved thefinest tonics possible.
They were now filled with new energy and pluck. Nobody dreamed of beingfrightened away from camp by such a little thing as a meteor burstingnear by, or any other strange happening. Perhaps, when night came aroundagain, this buoyant feeling might take wings, and fly away; but then,there would be fourteen and more hours before darkness again assailedthem, and what was the use fretting over things so far removed?
All had made up their minds to do a lot of things while up at camp,according to their various tastes. One began to look around for subjectshe could take snapshots of, having a liking for photography. Another gota companion to take up a station along the shore, so that they couldexchange messages, using the flags and the code.
Then there were several who evinced a decided interest in finding thetracks of wild animals, like a raccoon, or a rabbit, or even a squirrel,when nothing better presented itself. These they minutely examined, andapplied all sorts of theories in forming the story of the trail. In manycases these proved very entertaining indeed, and Paul was always pleased,with Jack's assistance, to pass on such things, being adapted throughpractical experience to correct errors, and set the beginner straight oncertain facts that he had mixed.
There were numerous other things to do also. One boy loved to hunt wildflowers, and as soon as he could coax a mate to accompany him, since Paulwould not allow the scouts to go off alone, he busied himself in theundergrowth, looking in mossy spots for some of the shy blossoms thatappealed to his collecting taste.
Another seemed to have a love for geology. He wanted to find specimensof every sort of stone, and hinted of certain stories of mining havingbeen carried on in these regions a century or two ago. But as he did notfind any ore that contained precious minerals in paying quantities,during their stay on Cedar Island, the chances are that his father willstill have to go right along paying his bills, even after he gets intocollege later in life.
The morning was slipping away fast, and they had not found any betterplace to settle on for a camp. It seemed that, by the merest chance, theyhad hit upon the best spot for a short stay on the island.
Three of the boys wandered along the shore, fishing. Paul had seen thempull in several good-sized bass, and began to make up his mind that afterall they were going to have a fish dinner, if the luck held. He was evendebating whether he dared leave camp for a while, and taking his jointedrod, joined the trio who had wandered around the bend of the easternshore of the island; for Paul certainly did love to feel a lively fish atthe end of his line, and could not think of leaving Lake Tokala withoutgiving its finny
inhabitants a chance to get acquainted with him.
Just as he had about decided that he could be spared for the hour thatstill remained until noon, Paul thought he heard a shout. Now, thescouts had more than a few times given tongue during the morning, whenengaged in some boisterous game; but it struck Paul, whose nerves werealways on the alert for such things, while this responsibility rested onhis shoulders, that there was certainly a note, as of alarm, about thisparticular outcry.
It seemed to come from around that bend, too, where he had seen the threeboys disappear. Even as he looked in that direction, he saw somethingcome in sight among the rocks that lay so thickly around. It was GustyBellows, one of the anglers; yes, and there was Little Billie just behindhim, taking great leaps that promised to speedily leave the other far inthe lurch.
Paul's heart seemed to stand still. Where was Jud, who had been in thecompany of the two? What could have happened?
The scout master dropped his rod, which he had been in the act ofjointing, and started on a run to meet the two fishermen; for hecould hear them shouting, though unable to distinguish just what theywere saying.
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