Kiddie the Scout

by Robert Leighton

  CHAPTER X

  THE GUARDIAN OF THE HONEYCOMB

  "And we're really goin' ter make a start right now?" questioned Rube,as he watched Kiddie packing their fishing gear on top of the rest oftheir equipment in the canoe. "We shall not get very far if you'renotionin' ter make camp 'fore dark."

  "All the better," said Kiddie. "If we find we've forgotten anything,there'll be the less distance for us to come back for it, see?"

  "Thar's nothin' as you're liable ter have forgot," observed Rube,confident in Kiddie's forethought. "Seems ter me you must have had aschedule of the things already fixed up in your head. Anyhow, I don'treckon as we shall have any occasion t' come back--unless it's for thebig dog. Why ain't we takin' Sheila along of us, Kiddie? Wouldn't shehave been useful?"

  "In some ways, yes; in others, no," Kiddie answered decisively. "I'mleaving her to mount guard up at the homestead and down at the cabin.She'll be better fed here at home, and she won't be running wild. Ifwe took her along with us, she'd sure be foolin' around among ourtraps, scarin' the wild critters away from 'em; and I ain't in favourof keepin' her on the chain. Besides, I don't calculate on your havin'a hound ter help you in trackin' and scoutin'. You must learn to do itall on your own. Ready? In you get, then, while I shove her off."

  Kiddie himself took the paddle. The water was extremely calm, and asthe canoe rippled out from the shore, every tree and bush and boulderwas clearly reflected in the glassy surface.

  "No," he said, after a long spell of silence, reverting to Rube'sremark. "Thar's no advantage in going far this evening. We've made astart; that's the great thing. I ain't greatly in favour of along-prepared programme, or of doin' things accordin' ter plan, like anordinary tourist. Guess we'll make camp back of that point that jutsout in front of us. But 'fore we land, we got ter catch a fish or twofor supper. That's why we packed the rods an' lines on top of theoutfit. May as well begin right away. Be careful how you move. Don'tstand; crawl."

  Rube got the two rods ready, while Kiddie paddled onward for a coupleof miles. Here and there the calm surface was dimpled by rising fish.

  They drifted slowly into the shadows of the trees. Rube was the firstto cast his fly, and the first also to make a strike, but it was acatfish that he caught, and, gently removing the hook, he threw it back.

  Kiddie caught a small trout, and then a larger one. Both Rube and hewere expert fishers, and between them they soon had enough for a goodsupper.

  They entered a sheltered bay, into which flowed a little creek of pure,sparkling water, overshadowed by great, low-branching cotton-woods andtall, feathery silver spruce trees.

  "No use in goin' far up the creek," said Kiddie, letting his paddledrag. "What d'ye say to here?"

  "Right," agreed Rube. "Thar's a nice level bit o' ground, middle ofthem four cotton-woods. We couldn't do better."

  They beached the canoe, and while Kiddie began to unload her, Rube wentabout collecting twigs and fir cones and as much dry wood as he couldfind to start a cooking fire. He built a fireplace of stones frombeside the stream, lined it with dry grass and light twigs, and soonhad a crackling blaze going from which to kindle the larger billets ofwood broken up with his axe.

  By the time he had cleaned the fish a glowing red fire was ready. Likea wise trapper, he put aside the offal to serve as bait for the traps.Thoroughly drying the cleaned trout, he soused them in flour, and laidthem gently into the frying-pan of boiling lard. Then he gave himselftime to cut bread and brew a dipper of tea.

  Kiddie paid no regard to the cooking, excepting occasionally to sniffat the odorous air that came to him from the frying-pan. He knew thatsupper would be quite ready before he had finished his own work ofunloading the canoe and setting up the teepee.

  In this latter work he needed no help. There were no tent-pegs todrive into the hard ground. He had only to erect the tall poles inpyramid shape, and then enclose them in the buffalo-skin cover, lacingthe latter together down to the door flap.

  It looked extremely Indian when it was up, even to the smoke-grimeround about the vent and the picture-writing in many colours thatdecorated the outer surface. The two trappers themselves looked Indianalso, in their fur caps, fringed buckskins, and moccasins. Kiddie hadeven stuck a pair of white eagle feathers in his cap, and his tunic wasrichly decorated with silk thread-work and coloured beads.

  When he moved away from the wigwam, Rube saw him go up to a gnarled oldcedar tree and stand looking at it curiously. He seemed to bepeculiarly interested in the rugged trunk. Presently he took a pieceof white chalk from his belt pouch and made a mark upon the tree.

  "Guess you've got some p'ticlar reason fer blazin' that thar old tree,"said Rube, as Kiddie strode towards the fire; "I ain't just able termake it out, unless you're figgerin' t' have the tree cut down fortimber. It's your own property, of course. You goin' ter have itfelled?"

  "No, the tree's not comin' down," explained Kiddie, seating himself onhis rolled-up sleeping bag within easy reach of the food. "Go an' havea squint at where I chalked the mark. Guess you'll soon understand."

  Rube strode to the tree, walked round it, and then stood for a while,with his thumbs in his belt, opposite the chalk mark.

  "Yes," he nodded wisely, when he returned. "We oughter git aconsiderable store of honey in the mornin' when we smoke them bees out.Thar's a rare procession of 'em goin' in at that little hole. Tree'shollow. Dunno why th' critters don't go in by the big doorway on thefar side. Takin' a short cut, I expect. Else they goes in one way an'out th' other."

  "That's it," said Kiddie. "Say, these trout are just top-notch.You've cooked 'em to a turn. I haven't tasted better since I was inRussia. They keep 'em alive in big tanks in the hotels in Moscow. Youc'n choose your breakfast while it's swimmin' round; so it's servedfresh. Keep the scraps all together. We'll bait the traps with 'em,presently, soon's we've washed up an' covered the fire. I noticeyou've made it in a good place--not too near the trees. But we'vestill got to be some careful. This yer ground's thick with pineneedles and cones, that might easily catch alight if a breeze camealong. Best dig a trench round it an' fill it with water."

  They washed their pans and plates in the creek, and then got out theirsnares and traps.

  Rube laid the snares in rabbit runs, and set some beaver traps in thecreek, while Kiddie, with his greater skill, laid spring traps for thelarger animals of prey in places where there were signs that largeanimals had recently been hunting and killing.

  He was particularly attentive to one special steel trap, which hecarefully baited with fish and set close beside the gnawed remains of arabbit, still fresh and blood-stained. He examined the surroundingground, and discovered the spot where the rabbit had been killed.Light tufts of fur lay about, and in their midst were the deepscratches of large claws, as far apart as a man's expanded finger-tips.

  "Guess there's a lynx been prowlin' around here lately," he said toRube, who was taking a practical lesson in the laying of traps. "Thatfish bait 'll sure tempt him. Anything more need doin'? What aboutthat trench?"

  "I've done it," Rube answered. "Thar ain't nothin' else, except t' getour beds ready."

  "Mine's going t' be in the open," Kiddie decided. "Your's 'll be inthe teepee. Keep a candle and matches and your moccasins within reach,case you've got ter get up in the dark. May as well plant yoursix-shooter under your knees, too. Thar's where I allus keep mine.It's a good habit, anyway. Don't reckon you'll need it, unless thecoyotes come nosing around. Take a good sleep. No occasion ter getmovin' about 'fore six o'clock."

  Before they turned in for the night, the moon had risen over the jaggedmountain tops, casting a glittering path of silver across the lake. Onthe farther side of the water they could see the black openings of manycanyons and yawning chasms that invited exploration.

  The deep murmur of a distant torrent came to them. The hoarse croakingof frogs and the chirping of crickets were mingled with the hooting ofowls and the nearer hu
m of mosquitoes. Bats and moths were flitting onsilent wings among the trees, and there was a rustle of dry leaves, asunseen animals of the night moved in the undergrowth.

  Rube was up and moving about the camp at sunrise, and he had stirred upthe smouldering fire and put a kettle and a dipper of water to boilbefore Kiddie crawled out of his sleeping bag. Kiddie's firstoccupation was to launch the canoe.

  "Fetch the towels and come along," he said. "We'll get t' the deepwater for our swim. You won't be anyways afraid, will you?"

  "Not when you're near ter keep an eye on me," returned Rube, withconfidence. "Course you'll help me t' git back inter the canoe.'Tain't the same's mountin' a pony."

  "Well, no," smiled Kiddie. "You'll mount over her head or her tail.She'll roll over, sure, if you try ter get astride her by the middle."

  Rube paddled out into the lake until he was told to stop. He shippedhis paddle, and looked round in time to see Kiddie's beautiful muscularfigure poised ready to dive from the high peak.

  With an adroit movement, Kiddie leapt into the air and, turning, cutthe water as cleanly as an arrow, making very little splash. Rubewaited so long for him to reappear that it seemed almost that someaccident had happened to him. But at length he came up in a quiteunexpected place, swimming back to the canoe at a pace that wasastonishing. Thereafter he devoted himself to giving lessons to Rubein swimming and diving and re-entering the frail canoe.

  "Quite enough for one morning," he said, before Rube had been in thewater nearly as long as he wished. "We'll get back to camp now andhave a cracker and a drink of hot tea. Then we'll visit the traps, andyou c'n get breakfast ready while I shave. I guess we may's well haveeggs and bacon, eh?"

  "Might have some o' that thar honey as well," suggested Rube.

  "All right," Kiddie agreed. "But you'll be havin' the bees foolin'around while we're at breakfast, if you're not careful. What you goin'ter smoke 'em out with?"

  "Sulphur," Rube answered promptly. "I got a chunk in me pocket; beenusin' it t' put in my bear cub's drinkin' water."

  Rube was in more haste than he need have been to disturb the bees.Kiddie, while waiting for his shaving water to heat, was making atoasting fork of a stick with a forked end for cooking the bacon. Hehad seen Rube carry away a flat slab of stone with crushed sulphur onit, and had watched Rube lighting the sulphur and shoving the slabwithin the hollow of the tree, as he might shove a dish into an oven.

  Suddenly there was a cry of alarm.

  "Kiddie! Kiddie! Quick! Come here!"

  Kiddie ran to the tree, still with his knife and the forked stick inhis hands.

  "Keep back!" Rube cautioned him. "It's a rattler--a huge one--far inamong the roots. Listen!"

  Kiddie heard the unmistakable crackling sound. He went nearer, holdinghis pronged stick in front of him. He peeped into the hollow of thetree, and through the blue fumes of the burning sulphur he saw thesnake's thick black body with its brown geometrical markings glidingand twisting round the exposed roots.

  While he watched, the repulsive head, with its sinister, beady eyes andbusily darting tongue, came out, rising slowly as it came. The widemouth opened, and Kiddie could see the two protruding poison fangsoutside the ordinary teeth. He stepped backward as the snake's neckand body began to curve in readiness to strike.

  "Seems he don't intend us ter get that honeycomb, Rube," he said calmly.

  "Do keep back, Kiddie!" pleaded Rube. "Them fangs 'ld go clean throughyour moccasins or your buckskins. What you gonner do--shoot him?"

  "Ain't got my gun," Kiddie answered. "It's in my belt alongside mytunic. Fetch it, if you like; may as well."

  Rube ran back to where Kiddie had slept, and returned with the loadedrevolver. He was astonished and alarmed at what he now saw. Therattlesnake had come wholly out from the tree, and Kiddie stooddirectly over it with his right foot planted across the thicker part ofits writhing body, and the toasting fork, held firmly in his left hand,gripping the reptile by the neck. The snake's mouth was wide open--itseemed almost to be snarling angrily; the long body was wriggling, andall the time came the ominous rattling sound from the ringed tail.

  "Get round by the back of me, and give me the gun in my right hand,"ordered Kiddie. "Don't be scared. I've got him, sure; he ain't goin'ter wriggle away."

  "I've got him, sure; he ain't goin' ter wriggle away."]

  Rube passed the revolver and watched. He expected Kiddie to dischargethe weapon close to the rattlesnake's head. To his surprise, Kiddieremoved his right foot, drew away the forked stick, and stepped back acouple of paces. The snake, now at unhindered liberty, raised its headseveral inches from the ground and coiled round, with jaws wide open,ready to strike. Kiddie then pressed his trigger, and the bullet,entering between the two poison fangs, came out at the back of theserpent's skull.

  "Say, what in thunder did you let it go loose for?" questioned Rube."It might have escaped! It might have bitten you!"

  "Which means that you figure I might have missed my aim?" said Kiddie."Not very complimentary to my shootin'. Why did I let it go loose?Well, I jest notioned it would be some cowardly ter shoot while I heldthe brute that way. Beside, I didn't want ter shatter the skull toomuch. Biggest rattler I've seen--seven feet long if it's an inch, andworth preservin'. Say, those bees look like givin' us trouble. Besthustle through with breakfast, and then get along to the traps. Thehoney c'n wait. That sulphur of yours is goin' ter do the trick."

  They went together to make the round of the traps, first going some wayup the creek to the willows where Rube had set his beaver traps in themidst of a colony of these busy animals. Rube was in hope that everytrap would be filled; but there were only two beavers--one of themquite young and small, the other, a large male in prime condition.

  "Best let it go, as it ain't hurt any," Kiddie advised, liberating thesmaller one. "You c'n take the bigger chap and we'll cook the tail.Where did you set your snares?"

  "In amongst the scrub, thar," Rube pointed.

  There was a fine jack-rabbit in the first snare they came to. Rubegave the animal a sharp knock on the back of the head, killing itinstantly.

  "Guess we'll have this yer feller for dinner," he said; "stewed withplenty of onions an' some taters."

  "You see," observed Kiddie, "we're already beginnin' ter beself-supportin'. Fish, meat, honey--there wasn't any occasion t' bringa butcher's shop along with us. We c'd even make our own bread at apinch. I'm plannin' ter make a fruit pudding. Thar's a bush 'mostbreakin' down with its weight of ripe and juicy thimbleberries, back ofthe old cedar tree. Bees have been at 'em."

  The next snare they visited was empty. In another a woodgrouse wascaught, and in yet another a fox cub. Kiddie's steel traps were setfarther away. He went first to the one about which he had been soparticular.

  "Gee!" he exclaimed. "It's sprung! Bait's taken. Remains of thatrabbit have been eaten, too!"

  "Lynx is a cunnin' critter," said Rube. "You gotter wear two pairs o'moccasins t' git level with a lynx."

  "I ain't just sure that it was a lynx," mused Kiddie, searching theground for signs. "You never happened on a jet-black lynx around here,did you, Rube?"

  "Nope," Rube answered. "They's allus the same tawny colour. Why d'youask?"

  Kiddie looked down at the tight shut jaws of the gin.

  "Thar's a tuft of black fur in the teeth of the trap," he pointed out."An' look at them claw marks! Guess that critter's some bigger'n alynx. May's well stay another night in this camp an' try ter git thecritter, eh?"

  "Dunno 'bout that," Rube demurred. "Might be a whole fam'ly o'rattlers lyin' around. 'Tain't just healthy."

  "Guess that rattlesnake we killed had done with family life a longwhile ago," said Kiddie. "Anyhow, I'm curious to know what critter itwas that sprang this trap."

  "Mebbe he shoved his nose inter one of the others," suggested Rube.

  Kiddie led the way unerringly among the forest trees. His traps hadall bee
n visited by wild animals. Two of them had been sprungineffectually; in others he found a raccoon, a cross-fox, a musk-ratand an otter. One had been dragged away, and was found some hoursafterwards with part of a fox's tail between the teeth.

  Rube Carter rather prided himself on his skill in cooking, and he wasparticularly anxious to make a good rabbit stew. Kiddie helped himonly so far as to skin and dismember the rabbit and peel the onions.He was himself a capable camp cook, but he did not wish to interferewith Rube's personal satisfaction in doing the work.

  "Say, Kiddie," said Rube, when he had fixed the saucepan firmly in thefire; "if we ain't goin' ter quit this yer pitch 'fore ter-morrow,you'd best sleep to-night along o' me in the wigwam. That rattlesnakewasn't many yards away from you, an' if you'd bin bit I dunno what Ishould ha' done. Thar ain't no good in hangin' around after that lynx,whatever its colour. Why shouldn't we quit?"

  "Where would you go, Rube?" Kiddie inquired.

  Rube looked out across the lake.

  "I got a idea of paddlin' across an' makin' camp in one of themcanyons," he said.

  "Tut!" objected Kiddie. "You want to do some exploring, eh? Want terget into some lonesome place where nobody has ever been before? What'sthe matter with this forest? I reckon we're the first civilized humansthat have ever spent a night in it. Prowl around in it; search inwhatever direction you like, you'll find no sign of any sort that ahuman being has been here in front of us to leave his mark on a tree,to drop a button or a chip of crockery, or to lift a stone from the bedof the creek. It's all as Nature meant it to be, centuries andcenturies ago. Growth and the weather alone have changed things."

  "All right," nodded Rube; "so long's you're satisfied, so am I.Suppose we get at that honey 'fore the bees come back."

  The sulphur fumes still lingered in the hollow tree, and scores of beeshad fallen stupefied among the roots. Rube, being the smaller, enteredthe hollow and looked up.

  "Thar's pounds an' pounds of honeycomb here, Kiddie," he called out;"but I can't reach it without somethin' ter stand on, an' we shall needthat biscuit tin ter hold it."

  Kiddie fetched the biscuit tin, and a spar of firewood, and stood bywhile Rube handed out to him the dripping combs of honey.

  "Thar's heaps more, higher up," said Rube, standing on tip-toes andreaching upward.

  Then somehow his foot slipped, the decayed substance of the treecrumbled under his weight. He screamed in terror as he fell in a heapat Kiddie's feet, followed by a shower of dust and strange, dryrottenness that was mingled with the syrup from the honeycombs.

  "What is it?" cried Kiddie. "What made you scream? Another rattler?"

  "No." Rube shivered. "_That!_" And he turned over and pointed withan agitated finger at a human skull and a heap of crumbled bones."It's a man's skeleton. And you notioned as nobody 'd ever set foot inthis forest before!"