The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp

by Thornton W. Burgess

  CHAPTER VI

  SNOW-SHOES AND FISH

  Around the great log fire that night Pat told Doctor Merriam about histrip and his impressions of city life, winding up with the emphaticallyexpressed conviction that while it might be a good place to do businessit was no place in which to live, and that he would rather have a cabinin the shadow of Old Baldy than a palace on Riverside Drive.

  "So you don't envy Hal?" laughed the doctor.

  "I do not!" roared Pat. "I wouldn't give the poorest muskrat pelt I evertook to change places with him."

  "Oh, you young savage!" cried the doctor. "Still, I share in a measureyour feeling. I have lived in many cities, but you see here I am buriedin the woods, and some of my friends wonder why. I'll tell you. It isbecause here I can live simply, unaffectedly, true to myself and to God.Here," he swept a hand toward the book-lined walls, "are my friendsready to give me of inspiration, comfort, advice, knowledge, whatever Idemand or may need. They are not dead things, these books. They areliving personalities, which have enriched and are enriching the world.When you boys listen to me you are not listening just to an audiblevoice. You are listening to an expression of that invisible somethingthat we call the spirit--the true personality. And so it is that thewriter of a great or good book never dies. His spiritual expression isthere on the printed page just as much as if he were giving expressionto it in audible speech. So with all these great and wonderful men andwomen constantly about me how can I ever be lonely? And then when I stepout-of-doors it is directly into the temple of God. His nearness andpresence are manifest in every phase of nature. The trees are alive,some of them sleeping, but alive nevertheless, and others not evensleeping. Sometimes I wonder if the very rocks are not alive. Theelements seemingly war with one another, but there is nothing mean orpetty or base in the mighty struggle, as there invariably is in theconflict of human passions. The Indian sees the Great Spirit in thelightning, and hears him in the rushing wind and the thunder, and is notafraid, but bows in reverence. He has a sense of nearness to the creatorand loses it when he is confined in the man-made world of brick andstone and steel and is eager to get back. It is elemental in him. Innature he sees God made manifest. We call him a savage, but I sometimeswonder if he is not more nearly a true child of the Father of all thanmany so-called civilized men who win the plaudits of the world and seemto forget whence they came and whither they will go.

  "But I didn't mean to preach a sermon, but just to give you an idea ofwhy Pat and I prefer to be savages, if you please, and spend our liveswith nature. Now, Pat, what are your plans? When do you start in forcamp? Haven't heard a word since you left from"--he paused at a warningwink from Pat, and then finished--"your partner. Big Jim was down fromthe lumber camp this week and reported seeing a silver gray. If youcould catch a couple of those fellows that problem of going away toschool would pretty nearly settle itself."

  "What's a silver gray?" asked Hal, whose knowledge of fur bearers wasrather limited.

  "A color phase of the common red fox," replied the doctor, "and if notworth its weight in gold it is worth so much that a single skin is oftenworth twice over the whole of a season's catch of other furs. Why itshould be called silver I don't know, for the only silver about it isthe tip of the tail. The color is black, and single skins have sold ashigh as $2,500 and more and $800 to $1,500 is not at all unusual. Sovaluable are the skins that black fox farming has become an establishedindustry and a pair of black foxes for breeding purposes are worth from$1,000 up. So you see, Jim saw considerable money running loose when hesaw that fox."

  "Phew!" exclaimed Hal with a low whistle of astonishment. "I didn'tsuppose there was anything on four legs except blooded live stock worthso much money. Wouldn't it be great if Pat could catch three or fourthis winter!"

  Pat threw back his head and laughed heartily. "Make it a dozen whileyou're about it, son," said he. "Don't be so modest. I've lived in thesewoods some years, but I never yet have seen a live black fox, and I'veknown of only two being caught. If Jim says he saw one he did. There'snothing the matter with Jim's eyesight. I guess I'll have to have a lookaround the neighborhood where he saw it. As for our plans, Doctor, weare going to spend to-morrow with you and give these tenderfeet a fewlessons on snow-shoes. We'll hit the trail for camp bright and early thenext morning."

  The next day dawned clear and cold and after a hearty breakfast thesnow-shoes were brought forth. First Pat explained the tie in common useand showed just how to adjust the rawhide thongs to give free play tothe ankles and yet prevent the toes from creeping forward to thecrossbars. With the thongs properly adjusted the shoes could be easilykicked off or put on again without untying the knots.

  "The chief thing to remember," said he, "is to take a long stride withthe toes pointed straight ahead. If you take a short step you will bealmost certain to step on the tail of one shoe with the toe of theother and over you go. Now I'll show you how, and you fellows canpractice a while out here in front where the snow has been cleared awayuntil you get the hang of the thing. Then we'll make a little trip outinto the woods and visit some of the old places, so you can see howdifferent they are from what they were last summer."

  "I have a suggestion to make," said the doctor. "While Mother puts up alunch, you get these youngsters so that they can keep right side up.Then we'll all take a short hike and show Muldoon how real woodmen canhave a hot meal when there is three feet of snow in the woods."

  "Hurrah!" shouted Hal. "That will be bully! Come on, Walt, and let's seeyour paces."

  For the next fifteen minutes the three boys tramped back and forth infront of the cabin, the shoes clacking merrily amid a running fire ofchaff and comment from Pat. Once Sparrer stepped on one of Upton's shoesand sent him headlong, to the huge delight of the others. Again Hal didjust what Pat had warned them against, took a short step and trippedhimself up. But at the end of a quarter of an hour they had pretty well"got the hang of the thing," as Pat expressed it, and were eager to tryit on deep snow.

  "There's nothing to it," declared Hal. "I thought there were somethingto learn, like skating, but this is a cinch. I could keep it up allday," and by way of emphasizing his remarks once more tripped himselfup, and sat down abruptly.

  "Sure, it's no trick at all," chaffed Walter. "When you can't keep upsit down, and when you're down stay down. There's nothing to it." ForHal, forgetting the width of his present underpinning, had no soonerscrambled to his feet than he had gone down again, because of theoverlapping webs.

  The doctor and Mrs. Merriam now joined them, for the latter was anexpert on shoes and had no mind to miss the outing. Pat and the doctorswung to their backs the packs wherein were the supplies and dishes, andthey were off, the doctor in the lead, Mrs. Merriam next, then Sparrer,Hal, Upton and Pat in the rear to keep the tenderfeet from stragglingand to pull them out of the snow, he explained.

  For a short distance a broken trail was followed. Then the doctorabruptly swung off among the trees where the snow lay deep and unbroken.The three novices soon found that progress here was a very differentmatter from walking on the comparatively hard surface of the packedtrail. The shoes sank in perhaps a couple of inches and it was necessaryto lift the feet more, to step high, which put more of a strain on themuscles. Also there was a tendency to step higher than was at all ingood form, and to shorten the stride by so doing, losing the smooth easyforward roll from the hips.

  Still, all things considered, the three novices were doing themselvesproud until in an unguarded moment Hal stepped on the stub of a brokenbranch of a fallen tree buried in the snow. It caught in the tail of theshoe just enough to break his stride. He took a short step to catch hisbalance, stumbled and took a beautiful header. At Pat's roar of laughterthe others turned to see two big webs wildly waving above the snow andnothing more of the unfortunate Hal. Now being plunged head first intodeep snow with a pair of snow-shoes on your feet is a good deal likebeing thrown into the water with a life preserver fast to your feet--youcan't get them down. For a few moments
the others howled with glee asthey watched the frantically kicking legs and listened to the smotheredappeals for help from the luckless victim. Then Pat reached out andloosened the shoes, gripped Hal by the ankles and drew him forth, red inthe face from his exertions and spitting out snow. He looked so whollybewildered and withal so chagrined and foolish that he was greeted witha fresh peal of laughter, to which he responded with a sheepish grin ashe tried to get the snow out of his neck and from up his sleeves.

  "There's nothing to it, nothing at all!" jeered Walter.

  "I didn't know but you thought you heard that black fox down there andwere trying to get him," said Pat.

  At that instant Upton involuntarily stepped back, a thing for whichsnow-shoes were never designed, and a second later had measured hislength in the snow. Falling at full length he did not disappear as Halhad done, but he was hardly less helpless. Every effort to help himselfby putting his hands down was futile. He simply buried his arms to theshoulders in the yielding snow without finding anything on which to geta purchase. Hal was jubilant.

  "When you're down stay down!" he yelped. "Laugh at me, will you?"

  Walter had by this time managed to kick his shoes off and once free ofthese was soon on his feet and was enjoying the joke as much as any one.Both he and Hal were up to their hips in the snow, for here among theevergreens it had not packed and flounder as they would they could notget out.

  The doctor's eyes twinkled as he picked up Hal's shoes and handed themto him. "Well, boys," said he, "it's high time we were hitting the trailagain. Suppose you put your shoes on, and we'll make up for lost time."

  Hal took the shoes and then looked helplessly across at Walter, who hadjust secured his, and it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps thedoctor's remark was not so guileless as it seemed.

  "How in thunder are we going to?" he demanded, vainly trying to force ashoe down to meet an upraised foot half-way, in the doing of which heonce more lost his balance.

  "I thought I showed you fellows just how to put your shoes on thismorning. A good Scout ought not to have to be shown twice how to do asimple thing like that," said Pat, without cracking a smile. "What kindof Scouts are you, anyway, crying for help the first time you tumble ina little bit of snow?"

  "Who's crying for help?" demanded Upton, vainly striving to get a shoedown where he could get his foot into the fastening. "I wouldn't takeany help now if I thought I'd got to stay here all day. Take that andthat!"

  He began to dig furiously with the shoe, throwing the snow with maliceaforethought full in Pat's face. Hal instantly took the cue and therewas a hasty retreat on the part of their tormentors, in the midst ofwhich Sparrer came to grief and had his turn at the snow-shoer'sbaptism. In a few minutes Walter had dug away enough snow to get hisshoes under him and walked forth in triumph, followed by Hal. Sparrer,anxious to prove himself a good sport, refused all aid. Being small andlight he had not sunk in as the others had and managed to get one shoeunder him. With this for a support he soon had the other fastened. Itwas the work of a moment to adjust the first one and he was ready totake his place in line.

  There were no more mishaps and as they tramped on through the greatstill woodland the wonder and the beauty of it silenced them, for itseemed like a vast cathedral in which the human voice would be aprofanation of the solemn hush. Upton knew every foot within a radius oftwo miles of Woodcraft Camp, and for five miles in the direction inwhich they were heading, and yet not even to Sparrer did thesurroundings seem more strange, such is the alchemy of the snow king tomake the familiar unfamiliar, the commonplace beautiful. So it was thatwhen at the end of three miles they emerged on the shore of a frozensheet of water Walter at first failed utterly to recognize it, and itwas not until Pat made some reference to the huge pickerel Walter hadcaught during his first summer at Woodcraft that it dawned on him thatthis was the very setback where he had discovered Pat's secret fishinggrounds and on the shore of which he had given Pat his first lesson inboxing and in the meaning of the word honor.

  "I've come over here because Mother insists that a dinner in the woodsis no more complete without a fish course than it would be in a New Yorkhotel, and because to tell the truth I have a hankering for a taste offresh fish myself. Pat, I hope that spring is still open where you putthe minnows last fall. Suppose you take this net and pail and see whatyou can find." He opened a small folding net as he was speaking. "I takeit for granted that you youngsters have your belt axes with you, as goodScouts in the woods should. One of you can run over to that alderthicket and cut a dozen straight sticks about three feet long and asthick as my forefinger. The other two can chop holes in the ice. Theydon't need to be very big, you know, not over a foot across. I suggestthat you scatter them pretty well. It adds to the fun to have them somedistance apart, and it multiplies the chances of a good catch. While youare doing that I will start a fire and get things started for lunch."

  Sparrer, having no axe, but a stout Scout knife, volunteered to cut thealder saplings while Hal and Walter attended to the holes in the ice.Hal was radiant. This was one of the things he had counted on, and hehad brought from New York a dozen type, as the modern tip-ups forfishing through the ice are called. But when they had started out thatmorning he had not dreamed that he would have a chance to use them on asnow-shoe trip, and so they were neatly rolled in his duffle bag at thecamp.

  "Wonder what kind of a rig the Big Chief has got, and how he's going touse those sticks," said he to Upton as he came up to where Walter wasmaking the ice fly in glittering chips.

  "Don't know, but whatever it is you can bet your last dollar it is allright," replied Walter. "How many holes have you cut?"

  "Five; I'm going to chop one more over there toward the north shore. Howmany have you?" replied Hal.

  "Six. That ought to be a good place over there, and that will make thedozen. Here come Sparrer and the Big Chief, and I guess we'll soon seewhat the idea is. Pat must have found the spring open, for Sparrer hasthe pail."

  The guess was a good one, for when he peeped in the pail Walter foundthat it contained a couple of dozen minnows. Together the three walkedover to where Hal was just finishing the last hole. The doctor took fromunder his arm a bundle of short pieces of lath, each about eighteeninches long, tapering toward one end, to which was fastened a bit of redflannel. Two inches from the other end was a hole big enough for one ofthe alder sticks to pass through freely. Fastened close to the end, andneatly wound around it, was a short length of stout line on the end ofwhich was a hook with wire snell. Unwinding one of these lines thedoctor passed one of the alder sticks through the hole in the lath,baited the hook with a lively minnow and dropped it through the hole inthe ice. The alder stick was placed across this so that the lath came inthe middle and lay on the ice at right angles. A pull on the line woulddrag the end of the lath down, making it stand upright with its littlered signal on the end, and that was all there was to it.

  It was simple in the extreme, but quite as effective as Hal's moreelaborate type could have been, as was presently demonstrated. They werejust preparing to set the last tip-up when Hal, glancing over to thefirst one set, saw the red signal and with a wild yell of "We've gotone! We've got one!" started for it at top speed. The others paused tosee what the result would be, and saw him yank out a flapping prize.

  "It's a beaut!" he panted as he rejoined them, holding out a handsomepickerel. "Bet it weighs five pounds if it weighs an ounce. Say, this isgreat!"

  The fish was already stiff, but much to their surprise the doctor toldthem it was not dead, frozen fish often retaining life for some timeafter being taken from the water. He now left the tip-ups to the care ofthe three boys, warning them to make frequent rounds of the holes tobreak the ice as it formed and keep the lines free. The fish he tookwith him to where Mother Merriam was busy beside the fire, for which Patwas chopping wood.

  Pickerel were numerous and hungry, to judge by the way they bit. It wasnovel and exciting sport to the three city boys. There would be a yellof "Ther
e's one!" and then a wild race to see who could reach it first.At first they almost invariably forgot in their excitement to take alongthe bait pail, which meant a second trip for one of them to rebait thehook. Sometimes the signal would drop before they reached it and theyknew that the fish was off. Several times there were two signals wavingat once and one time there were five. By the time the doctor's welcomehail of "Din-ner!" came ringing across the ice the bait pail was emptyand they had fourteen fish, none under three pounds, and from that up tosix. With the first one caught they had a total of fifteen. The doctorsmiled as he scanned the eager faces of the young fishermen and thenlooked at the long row of fish laid out on the snow.

  "Enough is plenty," said he, "and I guess this will do for to-day. Wewant to leave some for the boys next summer. We'll take the lines upafter dinner."

  How good that dinner did smell to the hungry boys with appetiteswhetted by exercise in the keen air! The snow had been shoveled awaynearly to the ground for the bed logs for the fire and ample spacecleared in front and spread with balsam boughs on which to sit. Therewas a steaming kettle of pea soup and a pot of hot chocolate. Thepickerel had been split and, broiled in halves pinned to pieces ofhemlock bark, stood before the fire and basted with bacon drippings.There was a venison steak done to a turn, for the doctor had hung a deerin his ice house at the end of the open season. There were potatoesboiled in their jackets. There was a brown johnny-cake baked in areflector oven, and to cap all a plate of the doughnuts for which MotherMerriam was famous.

  "And you call this a lunch!" cried Walter when he had eaten until he hadto let out his belt. "No wonder it required two packs to bring it here.Well, is there anything to beat this in New York?"

  "Not in a tousand years. Oi'm going to run away and live here," declaredSparrer, and while the others laughed he stared with dreamy eyes intothe leaping flames of the huge fire Pat had built, and who shall saybut that in them he saw the symbols of new hopes and ambitions springingfrom the colorless, sordid drudgery which until this time had been hislife.

  After the meal was finished and the dishes washed there was an hour ofstory-telling by the doctor, ending with the singing of America underthe towering snow-laden spruces and then the homeward trip. Thanks totheir experiences on the outward trip and the watchfulness resultingtherefrom there were no further mishaps, and when they reached camp andkicked off the big webs once more the boys were ready to vote theirfirst day in winter woods all that they had dreamed it would be andmore. Also they were quite willing to second and carry by unanimous votethe motion that they seek their beds early in preparation for an earlystart the next day.