CHAPTER VIII
ALEC HINTS AT DARK THINGS
Hal was willing to swear that he had not been asleep more than tenminutes when he was awakened by the beating of a pan with a stick andPat's roar of "Breakfast! All hands out for breakfast!" He rolled oversleepily so as to look out. Pat was laughing at him. Beyond thefirelight and from the tiny strip of sky above the dark tree tops hecould see a few pale stars blinking at him weakly.
"Aw, Pat, that's no joke. You may think it's funny, but it isn't," hegrowled, and there was a note of real anger this time.
"What?" demanded Pat with a deep throaty chuckle.
"You know what--waking a feller up when he's just got to sleep and isdead tired and got a hard day coming!" flared Hal.
"Aisy, aisy, son! Do ye think I would be frying bacon in the middle ofthe night for a joke? 'Tis meself has been up this good hour and 'tissix o'clock this very minute. 'Twill be daylight by the toime we beready to start," returned Pat good-humoredly.
Hal had it on the tip of his tongue to say that he didn't believe it,but by this time he was sufficiently awake to smell the bacon and hearit sizzle and sputter in the pan. Moreover, his companions were alreadykicking off their blankets, and he had the good sense to realize thatPat meant just what he said. Still, it was hard to believe, and it wasnot until he had reached for his watch that he was convinced that itreally was time to prepare for another day's tramp. Then he hastilycrawled from his blankets, his good humor fully restored, for Hal was agood sport, and there was nothing of the shirk about him.
"I beg pardon, Pat," said he, as he joined the two shivering figurescrowding as close to the fire as they could comfortably get while theywatched Pat stir up the pancake batter. "I honestly thought you were upto one of your old tricks and putting something across on us. Doesn'tseem as if I'd more than closed my eyes. Phew! but it's cold!"
It was. It was the hour just before the break of day when, perhapsbecause the blood has not yet begun to circulate freely, the cold seemsto have reached its maximum of strength. Beyond the narrow radius of theglow from the fire it seemed to fairly bite to the bone.
"Get busy with the axe and you'll forget it," advised Pat, adding, "Itis the courtesy of the woods to leave a little wood ready for the nextfellow who may hit camp late, as we did yesterday. You'll have justabout time enough to get warmed up before these flapjacks are ready."
"Good idea!" cried Walter, seizing an axe. "Come on, you fellows!Sparrer can lug it in as we split it."
At the end of ten minutes Pat called them to eat, and by that time theyhad forgotten the cold, for they were in a warm glow from exercise.
"I'll bet it was cold in the night," said Upton as they sat down tobacon, flapjacks and hot chocolate.
"Right you are, my boy," replied Pat. "When I got up the second time itwas cold enough to freeze the tail off a brass monkey."
"When you got up the second time! What in the dickens were you up for?"exclaimed Hal.
"To kape yez from freezing to death," grinned Pat. "Did yez think thefire would feed itself?"
"I didn't think anything about it," confessed Hal. "Gee, it must havebeen cold when you crawled out to start things this morning! Makes meshiver to think of it. I guess the rest of us are the lucky little boysto have everything started for us and a ripping good fire going beforewe turned out. Do you always get up before daylight in the woods, Pat?"
"Sure," replied Pat. "It's nothing when you're used to it. Most trappersare on the trail by break of day. The days are all too short in winter,anyway, especially when you've got a long trap line to work over. Iexpect Alec is on the line now. He'll be trying to get through earlyto-day so as to have things ready for us when we reach the cabin. It'sgoing to be a stiff pull to-day for you fellows, and the sooner we getstarted the better."
As soon as breakfast was finished the toboggan was packed, the brushpiled once more in front of the lean-to and the fire put out by thesimple process of throwing snow on it. The cold light of the stars hadgiven way to the colder gray of the dawn as they once more slipped onthe shoes and hit the trail around Little Goose Pond. It was then thatthe three novices realized that they were indeed tenderfeet. They hadnot gone half a mile before it seemed as if every muscle from theirthighs down was making individual and vigorous protest. But they weregame, and if Pat guessed their feelings it was not from any word whichthey let drop.
Gradually the stiffness wore off, and at the end of a couple of hoursthey were traveling with some degree of comfort. Pat purposely set aneasy pace for the first few miles and he kept a watchful eye on Sparrer,for whom he felt personally responsible. As a matter of fact theyoungster was standing it even better than the other two. For one thing,he was considerably lighter, and his shoes bore him up better than wasthe case with his companions. In places where the snow was packed he didnot sink in at all, whereas the others broke through slightly, and onsoft snow he did not begin to sink as far as they did. Of course thismeant far less strain on his muscles, and greater ease in walking.
As they rounded the end of the pond Pat pointed out the place where hehad been mistaken for a deer by two city boys and got a bullet throughhis hat. A little beyond this point they saw the first sign of lifesince they had entered the woods, the tracks of a hare or snow-shoerabbit, and with them other tracks which at first glance all but Patmistook for those of another rabbit.
"You fellows wait here a minute," said he and followed the trail into athicket of young hemlocks. A few minutes later he called to them to joinhim. They found him at the farther side of the thicket. At his feet thesnow had been considerably disturbed, and there were some blood-stainsand torn scraps of white fur. Beyond a single trail led to the foot of atree and there ended.
"Marten," explained Pat briefly in response to the looks of inquiry."He ran Mr. Longlegs down here, ate his dinner and took to the trees.I've had a hunch that there were marten in this neck of woods, buthaven't had a chance to trap them yet."
Later they put up a flock of spruce grouse, but it was out of season andthe boys had too much respect for the spirit as well as the letter ofthe law to be even tempted to shoot. After the noon lunch Pat quickenedthe pace somewhat. The temperature had moderated rapidly and the sky wasovercast. "It's a weather breeder, and we're in for more snow," said Patas he scanned the sky with some appearance of anxiety. "I don't like thelooks of it. We want to reach the cabin before the storm breaks, andwe've got to hit it up faster in order to do it. How are your legs?"
"Still doing business," replied Hal. "The stiffness is out, but I guessI won't object to reaching that little old cabin. How about you, Walt?"
"Same here," replied Upton. "I'm game for the rest of the distance, butthe cabin will look good to me, all right, all right. Hope Alec willhave dinner ready. I've no sooner eaten than I'm hungry again."
"My tummy, oh, my tummy!"
began Hal, but Pat cut him short with the order to fall in, and startedoff at a pace which left Hal no breath to waste on doggerel. They nowbuckled down to the trail in earnest. Pat's fears proved well grounded,for they were still some three miles from the cabin when the firstneedle-like particles began to hiss through trees and sting their faces.By the time they entered the pass to Smugglers' Hollow the tracks of BigJim had been entirely obliterated and Pat was holding the trail by theblazed trees, a feat by no means easy because of the difficulty oflooking ahead in the face of the storm.
In the narrow pass they stopped for a few minutes for a breathing spell.There the force of the storm was broken, but when they emerged into theHollow they found that they must force their way into the very teeth ofit. The wind had risen, and it drove the fine icy particles with a forcethat almost cut the exposed skin. The blinding cloud swirled about themand completely hid their surroundings. Pat, in the lead, partly brokethe force of the storm for those behind. It seemed to them as if he mustbe going by blind instinct, but if he was he had a dogged confidencethat was at least reassuring. At last when it seemed to the three citylads that they s
imply could not push on another foot Pat stopped andraised a warning hand. "Listen!" said he.
With straining ears they listened, but for a couple of minutes heardnothing. Then seemingly out of the heart of the storm there came a faint"Hello-o!"
"Alec," said Pat briefly. "He's getting worried."
Together they gave an answering shout, but the wind seemed to snatch thesound from their lips and whirl it behind them. "No use," said Pat."Wind's the wrong way, and we better save our breath. We'll need it. Itisn't far now, and he'll keep yelling to guide us."
Once more they buckled down to the task in hand. The few minutes'respite had eased the weary muscles, and the sound of Alec's voice waswonderfully stimulating. Fifteen minutes later, panting and gasping,powdered with snow from head to feet, they stumbled up to the cabin justas Alec Smith threw open the door to renew his signals. For a second hestared, then a look of intense relief swept across his rugged features.
ONCE MORE THEY BUCKLED DOWN TO THE TASK]
"Glory be!" he cried, springing forward and unceremoniously shoving theexhausted boys into the cabin. "I was feared that ye would be having tospend the night in a snowdrift. Did ye no hear me shouting?"
Pat nodded as he sank on to a stool, panting for breath. "We heard youall right, Alec, but we couldn't make you hear us because the wind wasthe wrong way. Besides, we didn't have any breath to spare."
But Alec wasn't listening. He was delightedly shaking hands with Walterand Hal and helping them to strip off their mackinaws, not forgettingSparrer, whose presence was a surprise, Pat having sent no warning ofthis addition to the party.
"My, but ye be a sight for sore eyes!" he declared as he bustled aboutpreparing hot chocolate and in other ways striving to make his guestscomfortable. "Saving Big Jim, who spent one night here, I haven't laideyes on a living soul since Pat left, and that was three weeks gone,though I mistrust that there be others no so very far away."
Pat looked up quickly. "What's that?" he demanded sharply.
Alec's face clouded. "I've seen signs which I dinna like. I'll betelling ye more aboot it after dinner," said he briefly.
"And the catch since I've been away?" asked Pat.
"Is no what it should be. There's na doot aboot that; it's no what itshould be." The face of the young Scotchman darkened still more. Patflashed him a look of understanding. "We'll talk that over by and by,"said he. "Just now we're half famished. My, but that stew smells good.I'll unpack while you are getting the stuff ready. With that toboggan inhere there isn't room to turn around."
The toboggan had been dragged in when they first arrived and it occupiedmost of the available room. Walter helped him unload, piling the stuffon one of the bunks for the time being. Presently Alec called for theireating outfit, confessing that his establishment didn't possess dishesenough for so many. At length he announced dinner ready and bade thefour draw up to the little rough deal table spread with a piece of whiteoilcloth. For seats there were two five-foot benches made by splitting alog, smoothing the flat sides and inserting four stout birch legs in theconvex side of each. These were drawn up on either side of the table,and at one end Alec drew up an empty box for his seat.
Alec had, as Walter expressed it, laid himself out on that dinner. Therewas venison stew with dumplings, and a rich thick gravy. There werebaking-powder biscuits as light as feathers. There were baked potatoesand canned string beans. And last but not least there was a great brownloaf of hot gingerbread.
"How's your tummy now?" asked Walter as Hal at last was forced to refusea third helping of stew.
"It's too small," Hal complained. "I want more. I want a lot more, and Ican't eat another mouthful."
Pat insisted on helping Alec do up the dishes and flatly refused toallow any one else take a hand, so the others spent the time in stowingaway their duffle and inspecting the interior of the cabin. To Sparrerit was, of course, all new and strange. As for that, it was hardly lessso to Harrison and Upton. When they had last seen it it had beenwindowless, doorless and the roof at the rear had been but temporarilypatched. Now there was a stout door. Four small windows had been fittedinto the openings left for this purpose. The temporary repairs which Pathad made on the roof at the rear end had been replaced with a permanentroof. In fact, the whole roof had been put in first class shape. Theside walls had been repacked with moss between the logs, the four sidebunks repaired and a new one built at the back, and all filled withfreshly cut balsam. The floor had been repaired. So also had thefireplace and chimney. A small cupboard and shelves had been added. Onthe floor were two big deerskins.
But the thing which caught and held the attention of the boys most was abig bearskin which had been thrown on one of the upper bunks.
"When and where did you get him?" asked Upton eagerly.
"Shot him within less than half a mile of the cabin just before realcold weather set in," replied Alec. "He was just gettin' ready to den upfor the winter. I misdoot he was the same one that give that youngfeller you called Sister the scare the day he was alone here last fall.Tracked him in a light snow and was lucky enough to see him first.Regular old he feller, and he sure took some killing. First shot got himright back of the shoulder and made him squall a plenty, but it didnastop him. Knew by that that I had hit him and hit him hard, but the wayhe beat it you never'd have guessed he was hurt at all. When I see theblood on the trail I kenned he was hard hit and would no travel far ifleft alone, so I sat down and smoked a pipe. Then I took up the trailand sure enough he had laid down behind a windfall about a quarter of amile from where I first see him. The old fox heard me coming and sneakedaway again, but he was getting weak and didna go far before he laid downagain. This time I got another shot and broke his backbone, but at thatit took two more shots to finish him. You ain't never killed a bar tillhe's dead. What do you think that feller Ely will say when he gits thatskin?"
"Spud? Is that for Spud? Do you mean to say that you are going to sendthat skin to Spud Ely?" cried Walter.
Alec nodded. "I promised him a barskin when he left, and I reckon thatthat's hisn. Hope he'll like it."
"Like it! Alec, he'll be tickled silly. He wrote me that you hadpromised him one," cried Walter. "It's perfectly bully! Good old Spud! Iwish he could be here with us now to make a little sunshine. Not that weneed it," he hastened to add, "but he sure would enjoy this. I bet he'sgreen with envy if he knows that we fellows are up here now."
"He knows, all right," Hal broke in. "Wrote him when I first thought ofthis trip, but he couldn't get away."
"I wanted to get that skin to him for Christmas, but didn't have achance to pack it out," explained Alec. "Guess I'll send it out when youfellers go. A little old barskin don't begin to pay what I owe thatboy. If it hadn't been for him I'd probably died up there in thathide-out where he found me. And if it hadn't been for the little doctorhere I'd likely have died anyway. Anyhow I'd have lost my leg. There's abarskin coming to you too, some day."
Walter flushed. It made him uncomfortable to be called the littledoctor, as Alec persisted in calling him, yet at the same time he wasconscious of a warm glow of pride which he tried hard to stifle. "Pooh,Alec, that was no more than any of the other fellows would have done ifI hadn't been here. You know all Scouts know what to do for first aid tothe injured," said he.
"Just the same I don't believe there was one of us would have had thenerve to tackle that broken leg of Alec's. I wouldn't for one," declaredHal.
To relieve Walter's embarrassment Pat abruptly changed the subject."What was that you hinted at when we first got here about signs of someone else in these diggings?" he asked, turning to Alec.
The Scotchman's face darkened. He threw a couple of big logs on the fireand then as the others made themselves comfortable he told his storybriefly. For the last two weeks there had been little fur in the traps,especially on the forty mile line to the north. He had made the round ofthis line twice in this time with only one marten, a fox and a few ratsto show for it, but he had found signs which led him to
believe thatsome of the traps had been robbed. He was morally certain that some onehad been systematically making the rounds of the traps, timing thevisits so that there would be no danger of running into him and socunningly following his trail that it was only by the closest study ofthe tracks that he had made sure that a stranger had been on the line.At one unsprung marten trap he had found a couple of drops of bloodwhich indicated that there had been something in the trap. At anotherthere had been the faint imprint of the body of an animal laid in thesnow off at one side. In one trap he had found the foot of a muskrat,nothing unusual in itself, but it had been cut off with a knife and nottwisted or gnawed off.
These things he had discovered on his trip two weeks ago, and on hisreturn trip he had thrust tiny twigs into the snow of the trail in sucha way that they would not be noticed. On his second round from which hehad returned only the day before, he had found some of these crushedinto the snow, sure evidence that they had been stepped on. He had kepta sharp watch for a strange trail joining his own, but had discoverednone, doubtless due to the fact that the thief or thieves had comeacross the bare ice of one of the lakes near the farther end of the lineand then it had been an easy matter to step into his trail where itskirted the edge of the lake. On this last trip he had found an emptyrifle shell which apparently had been dropped unnoticed.
Pat's face had hardened as he listened to the recital. "Any signs of thebloody minded thaves in the Holler or on the short lines?" he asked.
Alec shook his head. "They've kept away from here. The catch on theshort lines has been fair, and on the long line it ought to have beenbetter."
Pat stood up and shook himself. "Arrah now, 'tis time I was back on mejob," he growled. "Wance I lay the two hands av me on the thafe 'tis thelast time he will be wantin' to look wid the eyes av envy on fur thotdon't belong to him. A thafe who would shtale another man's fur wouldrob his own grandmother. This storm will cover up all tracks, but 'tislike there will be a chance for some real scouting after it is over.'Tis thaves we'll be trappin' and not fur for a while. Did Big Jim sayanything about a silver fox when he was here?"
"No," replied Alec, his face lighting. "Why?"
"He told Doctor Merriam that he saw one on his way out, and we've beenwondering if it was over this way," Hal broke in eagerly.
"Likely he saw it on his way out of the Hollow," replied Alec. "There'sone here. I've seen him twice, but didn't get a shot. I've got traps setfor him, but he's been too smart for me so far. He's a big feller, andhis skin will grade No. 1 prime. If we can get him the thieves arewelcome to all the rest of our furs."
"No, they're not!" retorted Pat. "They're going to fork over every peltthey've taken, to the smallest rat, or Pat Malone will know the reasonwhy." He shook a big fist by way of emphasis. "Now, let's turn in andforget our troubles," he ended with a mildness that brought a generallaugh.
The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp Page 9
