CHAPTER V. THE MISSING TENDERFOOT.
"It looks like poor old Bumpus is lost," said Allan, presently, breakingthe silence that had fallen upon them all.
"Lost--whew!" muttered Giraffe, with a suggestive whistle, and anelevation of the eyebrows that stood for a great deal.
"That big booby lost!" said Step Hen.
"What on earth can we do?" Smithy asked.
Again they looked at each other.
Consternation had undoubtedly fallen upon the camp of the scouts, just asthough a wet blanket had suddenly been thrown on some pet project. Itwould have been a matter of more or less concern had Davy Jones failed toturn up after a day's hunt in the big timber, or Giraffe, or Step Hen;but Bumpus, why, no one save himself had ever seriously contemplated thepossibility of the fat boy going astray.
And yet, now that they thought of it, how many times had they heard himprophesying that if ever he _did_ find himself wandering about alone, hewould know how to take care of himself? Bumpus had for a long time beenmaking preparations looking to such a happening. The remembrance of thisseemed to cheer the others up a little, after the first shock had passed.
"He was always dreading just this same thing," said Davy Jones.
"And getting ready against the evil day," remarked Allan.
"That was why he bought his little compass," put in Giraffe.
"Ditto his camp hatchet," added Step Hen.
"And I reckon, suh," observed the Southern boy, "that Bumpus had it inmind more than anything else when he took to carrying that piece ofwindow sash cord around with him."
"Sure thing," Giraffe went on. "I've heard him say it was apt to come inhandy lots of times."
"And it did," broke in Davy Jones, earnestly. "If it hadn't been for thatsame handy rope, fellows, there's no telling what would have happened to_me_; or what gloom might be ahangin' over this here camp right now."
"Good old Bumpus!" murmured Smithy, quite affected.
"Always willing to do his share of the work. You never knew him to shirk,or get a cramp in the stomach," and as Giraffe said this he cast a severelook over in the direction of Davy Jones, who turned red in the face,gave a little uneasy laugh, and hastened to exclaim:
"Oh! that joke is ancient history now, Giraffe, I've reformed since Ijoined the patrol."
Some years before, the Jones boy had really been subject to violentcramps that gave him great pain, and doubled him up like a jack-knife, ora closed hinge. He was always an object of pity at such times, and hadfrequently been allowed to go home from school because of his affliction.
But the time came when the teacher observed that these convenient"cramps" never arrived on a rainy day; and also that Davy recovered in amiraculous fashion, once he reached the open air. And when Davy wassimply allowed to retire to a cloak room, to let the "spasm" pass,instead of being started homeward, it was noticed that his complaintquickly disappeared.
So on joining the scouts, Davy, whose dislike for exerting himself hadbeen his weakness, began to have those strange "cramps" whenever somehard work was to be done.
But trust boys for noticing that the pains never, never attacked him whena meal was awaiting attention. And Davy was soon made so ashamed ofhimself that he did actually "reform," as he now declared.
"Well," Smithy went on to say, "it's some satisfaction, anyhow, to knowthe poor old elephant is so well fixed, if he does have to pass a nightor two in the woods alone."
"He evidently took a lot of grub and matches along," said Davy.
"And if he has a fire, he can do without his blanket," Allan observed.
"While we're pitying him in this way, how do we know but what it may bethe best thing in the world for Bumpus," suggested Thad.
"Yes, he needs something like this to give him self-reliance. Bumpus wasalways ready to follow at the heels of some one who led; but who everknew him to start out on his own hook?" said Allan.
"If only we could be sure of finding him again, after a couple of dayshad gone by, it wouldn't be so bad," declared Smithy.
"Who'll tell his folks?" asked Davy Jones, dejectedly.
Thad turned on him like a flash.
"Here, we don't want any of that sort of talk," he said, severely. "We'regoing to find our missing comrade again, all right. Get that fixed inyour mind, Davy. It may be to-morrow, or the day after, or even a weekfrom now, but we'll find him sooner or later, and he'll know more than heever did before, too."
"You just bet he will," chuckled Giraffe, as he mentally pictured the fatboy stalking through that great tract of timber, solemnly consulting hiscompass from time to time, and yet utterly unable to say whether the camplay to the north, south, east or west.
"It'll just be the making of Bumpus, fellers," ventured Step Hen.
"But see here," remarked Thad, "if he disappeared this morning, how is ityou two, Davy and Smithy, let the whole afternoon go by without trying tocommunicate with us?"
Davy Jones took it upon himself to answer.
"You see, Thad," he began, "in the first place we didn't know for surethe poor old silly was lost, till late in the afternoon. We just kinderfelt a bit uneasy, but every time I came to camp after fishin' an hour orso, I expected to see him sitting here."
"But if you grew uneasy, it ought to have been your business to call usin?" continued Thad, as the leader of the patrol.
"Just so, boss," Davy went on to say, "but you see, it happened that Ilet Bob White take my gun; and when Bumpus, he let that silly notion towander get a strangle hold on him, why, he carried off the only othershooting iron we had in camp."
"Oh!" said Thad, "of course. You did all right, Davy. And besides,there's a little chance right now, that Bumpus, in wandering around, mayglimpse our fire here, and come in."
"And on that account you mean we ought to keep a bumper blaze going allevenin'," remarked Giraffe, eagerly.
Giraffe's weakness lay in his adoration of fire. It was forever on hismind, and whenever he sat down to rest, his always keen-edged jack-knifewas busy whittling shavings.
"Oh! we might want to make a fire later on, who knows; and then theseshavings will come in real handy," he would say.
He knew about every means possible for producing a blaze without the useof matches. The patrol leader, afraid lest Giraffe set the woods afire upin Maine, where the law is very particular about such things, had givenGiraffe the job of official fire-maker for the camp on condition that heagreed never to carry matches on his person, but to ask for them asneeded.
This put Giraffe on his mettle.
He began experimenting, first with a burning sun-glass, and a pinch ofpowder to start a blaze in the dry tinder. Then he had used flint andsteel successfully. And from this old-time method he advanced along theline, making fires in half a dozen primitive ways, until he came upagainst one that "stumped" him for a long time.
This was the South Sea Island method of producing heat by friction. Thescout had studied it well, made him a little bow, and spent many hourstwirling the stick that was rolled back and forward by the cord.
How success finally came, and at a time when it seemed Giraffe reallyneeded a fire, if ever he did in all his life, has been already told in aprevious volume of this series.
But the passion for a fire was just as much a part of Giraffe's nature asit had ever been. And this was why his face lighted up, while his eyesglittered with happiness, when he heard the acting scoutmaster admit theyought to keep a good fire going all evening.
Trust Giraffe for that; a wink was as good as a nod to him, when thesubject of fire-building was concerned.
Later on, they sat around enjoying the venison steaks, and the troutwhich had been so beautifully browned in the frying-pan, after severalslices of fat salt pork had been "tried out."
"What are you putting that lot aside for, Davy?" asked Thad; just as ifhe did not know the generous thought which impelled the cook to reserveone good big portion of the supper.
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bsp; "Why, I thought that mebbe Bumpus might poke along after a bit," repliedDavy, adding another crisp trout to the pile he had heaped up, "and if hedoes, I guess he's apt to be pretty hungry. Bumpus is a good feeder, weall know."
"What d'ye suppose made him do it, Thad?" asked Step Hen.
"There," said the scoutmaster, "that's the question. None of us reallyknow; but we can give a pretty good guess, eh, boys?"
"I should say, yes," spoke up Giraffe. "Bumpus has gone clean crazy overthis bear business."
"Said everybody was getting them but him," put in Smithy; "and I'm surethat doesn't apply to me in the least. I never expect to get a bear; andmy only hope is that no bear will get me."
"And even if he didn't actually say the words." went on Giraffe, "hismanner stood for it all right--'you just wait, and I'm going to have mychance before long.' And fellers, it's my opinion Bumpus just got tiredof waiting for his chance to come to him, so he went out stalkin' afterit."
"No use trying to pick up his trail to-night, is there?" asked Step Hen.
Thad shook his head.
"Not in the least," he said. "We'll have to wait until morning, and hopehe may show up yet. As I said before, we'll try and keep a fire going allnight, so as to show him a beacon, if by good luck he keeps on turning tothe left, as lost people nearly always do, and comes back this way."
They sat up rather late, talking. And although the conversation might beof things that had happened in the past, it was easy to see what thechief thought in every one of those boys' minds must be; for never did arabbit or a squirrel rustle the near-by underbrush that there did notcome a look of eager expectancy upon seven faces, that quickly died outagain with repeated disappointments.
There is an old saying to the effect that "you never miss the water tillthe well runs dry." And these seven scouts of the Silver Fox Patrol didnot fully realize what a universal favorite Bumpus Hawtree had becomeuntil he was missing from camp.
Many times that night when either Allan or Thad, being light sleepers,took it upon themselves to crawl out from their blanket in the tent theyoccupied, to fix the smouldering fire, they would sit there a bit, andlisten to see if by good luck they might hear a distant "halloo."
But only the usual noises of the night greeted them. Around lay themysterious big timber, and somewhere in the unknown depths of this widestretch of woods bordering the Rocky Mountain foothills their comrade wascamping in solitude, doubtless a prey to lively fears.
So morning found them.
Breakfast was quickly eaten. There was no "cutting up," or boyish pranksshown on this morning. Every one seemed serious, gloomy, oppressed withdoubts, and a vague sense of coming trouble.
Thad saw to it that a complete understanding was arranged with the threewho were to remain in camp, being Davy Jones, Bob White and Smithy.
And then the others, having each made up a few rations of food to carrythem over possibly a couple of days, prepared to start upon the plaintrail of Bumpus, which had been easily found.
A last wave of the hand, a few "good luck go with you's," from the boysin the camp, and then the trackers were swallowed up in the big timber.