The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp

  CHAPTER V

  OFF FOR WOODCRAFT

  Edward Muldoon, otherwise Sparrer, surreptitiously pinched himself tomake sure that he was not dreaming. He, newsboy from the lower East Sideof New York, who had never been farther from it than Coney Island,riding in a brilliantly lighted Pullman coach on his way into the greatwoods of which he had dreamed so much since he became a Scout, and ofwhich he had only the vaguest idea! It couldn't be.

  And yet it was. The roar of the wheels told him that it was. The veryfeel of the luxurious seat in which he was sitting told him that it was.And to clinch the fact and at the same time make it harder to believethere were his three companions, Upton, his patrol leader, Harrison andPat Malone, whom he had secretly made his hero. Yes, it was all true,and yet he couldn't get rid of the idea that sooner or later he wouldwake up and find it all a beautiful dream.

  The fact is, this trip was in the nature of a Christmas present. Fromtheir first meeting Pat had taken a great fancy to the street gamin. Herecognized a kindred spirit. Instinctively he realized that thedifference between Sparrer and himself at the same age was mainly one ofenvironment. The youngster's sturdy independence and self-reliance, hisquick wit, even his impudence, struck responsive chords in the youngwoodsman. Sparrer was what he himself would have been had his nurserybeen a New York East Side tenement instead of the log cabin of a millsettlement in the lumber district of the North Woods.

  The night after the motor accident the three older boys had beendiscussing Sparrer and his prompt resourcefulness. Pat dropped a remarkthat he wished with all his heart that he could have the youngster inthe woods with him for a couple of weeks.

  "Let's take him with us! It would be no end of fun," cried Hal on thespur of an inspiration.

  Upton shook his head. "It would be bully if we could, but I'm afraid wecan't," said he.

  "Why not?" demanded Hal. "I can get a pass for him, and between us Iguess we can take care of him. It won't cost him a cent."

  "That's just it," declared Upton. "There is nothing on two legs in NewYork more independent than Eddie Muldoon. He'll scrap for his rights aslong as he can swing a fist, but the minute you try to hand him anythingfor nothing he'll turn you down hard and cold. Sparrer pays his way, orhe don't go, and wild horses couldn't drag him. He would stand for thepass, all right, because he would be on the same footing as the rest ofus, but if we tried to give him anything in the way of an outfit, and itgoes without saying that he hasn't anything suitable for the weather weare likely to have up there, he would kick like Barnum's trick mule.That's one thing I like about the little beggar. And when you come rightdown to it, independence is one of the fundamental principles ofscouting."

  Once more Hal was inspired. "I have it, fellows!" he cried. "We'll makehim a Christmas present of the trip. He can't refuse a Christmas gift,if it is put to him right. I'll get the passes and chip in towardwhatever he needs in the way of outfit. You two can make up the rest.He'll be Pat's guest when he gets there, the same as Walt and myself, sohe can't kick on that. You're all my guests on the train anyway, so Idon't see how Sparrer's independence is going to be hurt a little bit."

  "That will be great, if we can put it across," declared Upton, "and Ifor my part would like nothing better than to have the youngster along.It would be the event of a lifetime for him."

  So it was decided that Upton should use all his diplomatic powers topersuade Sparrer that he was needed for the largest success of theparty. His success was the result of a great deal of argument, helpedout by the boy's own longing to know what the woods life of which he sooften dreamed really was like. So now here they were actually on theirway, four as happy boys as ever set forth in quest of pleasure.

  The week had been a busy one. Pat had spent a good part of it at BronxPark and the American Museum of Natural History, where his letters ofintroduction and his own ready wit and evident thirst for knowledge hadmade him a welcome visitor. During the rest of the time there had beensomething doing every minute. Hal had seen to that. Upton had dug at hisbooks as if that scholarship hung on that one week's work. As forSparrer, he had worked early and late that he might leave a few extracoins to make Christmas for the brother and two sisters at home.

  "Did you telephone the hospital before we left?" asked Hal, turning toUpton as they waited for their berths to be made up.

  Walter nodded. "Did it the last thing before I left the house," hereplied. "The young lady is practically all right now, and has gonehome. Her father is getting along nicely and it is only a matter of timewhen he will be right as ever. By the way, their story is exactly asSparrer had it. Looks like a sure case against the owner of that othercar. I understand that they are going to bring suit for damages. Isuppose that means that we'll have to go on the witness stand when thething comes off."

  "Lucky they caught those fellows at the ferry."

  "Do you suppose there's any truth in that claim by the owner of the carthat it was a joy ride by unknown parties who had taken the car withouthis consent or knowledge?" Hal asked.

  "Looks pretty fishy to me," replied Upton. "Still, he may get away withit. Understand that neither of the victims can identify the men in theother car. You remember that curve is pretty sharp, and they were hitalmost before they saw the other car, let alone who was in it. Sparrerand Pat seem to be the only ones who even had a glimpse of thescoundrels, and that a mighty brief one. If there is any identifyingdone I guess it is up to you two fellows. Think you can do it?"

  "Not I!" declared Pat with emphasis. "I could shwear to the number ofpoints on a jumping buck in the brush, but nary a thing could I shwearto about that ingine av destruction."

  "How about you, Sparrer?" demanded Hal.

  "If Oi was one of them artist guys Oi could draw you a picture of bothof them. Let me put my peepers on them and Oi'll shwear to them in atousand," replied the newsboy with such an air of finality that therewas no doubt in the minds of his companions that he could do just whathe said he could.

  "Well, you're likely to have a chance if that case goes to court," Uptonremarked. "For my part, I hope you can do it. I'd like to see thosefellows get what's coming to 'em. I move we turn in now, for we've gotto get up at an unearthly hour. It's bad enough to turn out beforedaylight in the summer, but it makes me shiver to think what it will beat this time of year. Br-r-r-r."

  Pat laughed. "If you're going out on the trap line you may as well getbroken in to early rising at once. We often have some miles behind us bythe time the sun is up," said he. "However, I guess you're right aboutturning in. I'm ready, for one."

  It seemed to Sparrer that he had hardly closed his eyes when some oneshook him, and he tumbled out of his berth to find the others in thedressing room hurriedly getting into their clothes. They had no morethan time to dress and gather up their baggage and various parcelsbefore the train stopped. They had reached Upper Chain.

  As they stepped down into the night, for day had not yet begun to break,Upton recalled his first arrival there, a rather lonely youngster,uncertain that this was the right place. It had been summer then, buteverything had been shrouded in a heavy night mist and the chill of thehigh altitude had struck clear to the marrow in his bones. He had been atenderfoot then, his only knowledge of woodcraft what little he hadgleaned from books. He remembered how the mystery of the great woods hadswept over him and engulfed him even as did the night mist, and howinsignificant he had felt. Even now, after three years of experience incamp and on the trail he felt something of that same spirit of awe, andhe knew that it would always be thus. It was the tribute exacted bynature from the true devotee entering her temples.

  He glanced curiously at Sparrer, wondering what responsive chords mightbe struck in the soul of this waif of the great city, but it was toodark to see his features clearly, and he could only dimly surmisesomething of the younger lad's feeling from Sparrer's quick intake ofbreath as the dark, heavy coaches of the train rumbled off into thenight, leaving them standing between two walls of white. Overhead amyriad of star
s burned like jewels. Never had they seemed so near, sobrilliant, so alive. The snow thrown high on either side of the tracks,for there was a siding at this point, was above their heads. Thestillness was almost oppressive now that the train was beyond hearing.

  Pat stretched his arms and drew a long breath of the cold, rarified air,then expelled it in an audible sigh of supreme content.

  "Arrah now, 'tis me foist breath av real air in a week, and the twolungs av me aching for ut," said he. "Shure 'twill make the likes av yegrow to a man's size in a week, me bantam, and thot's more than NooYor-r-k will be doing for ye in a loifetoime," giving Sparrer a heartyslap on the back. "Hal, I thought those passes read to Upper Chain, andhere we be dropped in a snow-bank. I'll be after making complaint tothe management for inconveniencing four gentlemen and reducing them tothe ranks of common laborers."

  The others laughed as they followed Pat's example and shouldered theirduffle to tramp the hundred yards up to the station, for they had beenin the rear car. In a few minutes they were in the bare little waitingroom, in the middle of which a big stove was radiating welcome heat, andexchanging greetings with the night operator, who having wired thearrival and departure of the train was preparing to go home, for therewould be no more traffic for many hours. He shook hands warmly withWalter and Hal, whom he recognized at once as Woodcraft Camp boys, wasintroduced to Sparrer, and jollied Pat on what he was pleased to termhis "New York airs."

  "I reckon your mother is waiting for you, Pat," said he. "I saw a lightover at the house when I came along. You're welcome to stay here untildaylight, but I expect she's looking for you over there."

  "I wrote her we'd be there to breakfast, but not to get up any earlieron that account," replied Pat. His eyes danced. "Shure the ould ladythinks her son has been in the hands av the inimy and cannot rest aisy'til she sees for herself that not a hair av his red head has been leftin Noo'Yor-r-k. God bless her. We'll go over there and relieve hermind."

  In speaking of his mother as the "ould lady" there was nothingdisrespectful on the part of Pat. In reality it was a term ofendearment. The stars were beginning to pale as the boys made their wayin single file along a narrow path through the snow toward the yellowgleam of a light set in the window of one of the rough frame houses thatmade up the village. Pat led straight for this.

  "Hello!" exclaimed Upton in surprise. "Have you deserted the old cabin?"

  "Sure," replied Pat, and there was just a suggestion of pride in hisvoice. "The mother was a long time between log walls, but now, thesaints be praised, she do be living in one of the illigant mansions ofUpper Chain, and by that token is a member of the aristocracy. Moved inlast fall."

  By this time they had reached the house and at the sound of voices thedoor was thrown open and Mrs. Malone stood in the doorway looking outeagerly. It was a warm Irish greeting that the boys received and Hal,who never had met her before, understood where Pat got his humor andready tongue. He at once dropped into his old brogue entirely and whileMrs. Malone bustled about putting a hot breakfast on the table Pat toldher of his adventures in the great city as only he could. From time totime she interrupted with comments so like Pat's own ready repartee thatbetween the two the boys were kept in a gale of laughter.

  "Eating breakfast by lamplight is a new experience to me," declared Halas they sat down to bacon, corn bread just from the oven, flapjacks withthick maple syrup, and coffee.

  "'Tis pwhat yez will be doing every day for the next week, and lucky ifyez get the breakfast, as good a wan as this, anyway," declared Pat.

  They had just finished the meal when Pat's younger brother and twolittle sisters shyly joined them. They were neatly dressed, and Walterwas immensely tickled with Pat's manifest pride in them. It had beendecided to spend the day there to prepare for the trip into the woods,and also to give Pat a day at home. They would take the train the nextmorning over to Lower Chain, a twenty minute run, and from there theywould have to depend on their own good legs to take them the twelvemiles on the lake to Woodcraft Camp. One of Pat's first inquiries hadbeen as to whether there had been any snow during his absence, and greatwas his satisfaction to learn that there had not. He explained that thatmeant clear ice on the lake, for the heavy snows had come early thisyear, before the lake froze, and they would be able to make practicallythe whole distance on skates.

  While Pat was attending to affairs at home the three visitors went outto do the village. The sun was well up and as they stepped out into theclear still air both Hal and Walter paused with a little gasp ofsurprise and pleasure. This was not the ugly sawmill village of theiracquaintance. But for the tall stack of the mill and the whine andscream of the saws there was nothing familiar. It was as if a good fairyhad touched the scene with a magic wand and all the sordid ugliness hadbeen transformed to beauty. Over everything lay the white mantle ofsnow. It half buried the smaller cabins. It hid completely the stumps ofthe clearings. It had buried the litter of the mill yard. It glitteredand sparkled in the rays of the sun. Beyond the clearing the evergreensrose in great pyramids of white. No, Upper Chain was no longer a blot onthe landscape. It was beautiful.

  As for Sparrer, he was dumb. While he could not appreciate the wonder ofthe transformation he could and did appreciate the wonder of the scene,and for the time being his tongue was tied. From the mill office theycalled up Woodcraft Camp to tell Doctor Merriam of their arrival andthat they would be with him on the following day.

  "Gee, didn't it seem good to hear the Big Chief's voice again?" said Halas they went out into the mill to show Sparrer how logs are transformedinto boards, timbers and shingles. "Sparrer, to-morrow you are going tomeet one of the finest men in the whole world, bar none. He's a greatold Scout."

  Mrs. Malone was naturally disappointed that Pat was not to be home forChristmas, but she said little and busied herself in helping the boysprepare for their holiday. Her motherly Irish soul warmed at once toSparrer, and she fussed over his outfit and comfort in a way that wasnew to the youngster, for his own mother, working from daylight to darkand often late into the night, had had little time for mothering. Theboys had brought some gifts for the children, and these their mother hidagainst the arrival of good St. Nick. A part of Sparrer's outfit as aChristmas gift from his comrades had been a warm mackinaw, and to thisMrs. Malone insisted on adding a pair of thick woolen stockings of herown knitting. Pat's contribution was a pair of snow-shoes, which hebrought out at the last moment as they were starting for the train, andas he took them a lump rose in the younger lad's throat and cut offspeech. But the shine in his eyes expressed more than his tongue couldhave. Such kindness was a new experience in his life, and he hardly knewhow to meet it.

  The short run by train to Lower Chain was quickly made, and the boyspiled out, eager to be on their way. Pat had provided a stout tobogganwhich showed the effects of long use, and on this he deftly loaded theirduffle and supplies, lashing them securely into place. Sparrer watchedhim with troubled face. Ever since the mention of skates the day beforehe had worried over that twelve mile trip down the lake. He knew thatUpton and Harrison had brought skates, but he had none, and if he hadhad he couldn't have used them. He had never been on a pair in his life.Skating is not an accomplishment of the lower East Side of New York.

  So Sparrer had worried. If it had been merely a matter of a twelve milehike he would have been on edge to show the others that he could keepup, but he knew that with the others on skates for him to try to keep upwas as absurd as for a truck to try to keep pace with a racing car, andit hurt his pride to feel that he would be a drag on the others. Hal andWalter already had their skates on and were cutting circles, figureeights and grape-vine twists on the smooth ice. With the fastening ofthe last lash Pat put on his own skates.

  "Now, me bantam, get up on that load," he ordered.

  Sparrer demurred, but the young giant picked him up bodily and plumpedhim down on a roll of blankets, wrapped him up in a blanket left out forthe purpose, ordered him to sit still, with dire threats of what wouldhappe
n to him if he did not, called to the others to get on to theirjobs, and they were off, Hal and Walter with the rope of the tobogganbetween them pulling, and Pat pushing behind with his hands on Sparrer'sshoulders.

  Before them stretched the gray-white expanse of the lake, and on eitherside the glistening white shores, now receding as they passed a deepbay, again creeping out in a long point. There was no sound save thesharp ring of the skates and the soft grate of the smoothly slippingtoboggan. Past two big summer hotels with blank staring windows, pastshuttered and deserted summer camps they sped until all sign of man'shandiwork disappeared. The keen air was like wine in their veins and itwas hard to believe that the thermometer had registered eighteen belowzero that morning, for the air was dry and did not penetrate as wouldthe moisture laden air at home at a temperature many degrees above thezero mark.

  "I just can't believe that thermometer was on its job," protested Hal,as they stopped for a breathing spell half-way down the lake. "Why, I'mso warm I wish I was rid of this mackinaw."

  "Me too," added Walter.

  Pat suddenly whirled Hal around and looked keenly at his left ear. Therim was a dead white. "If you can't believe the thermometer perhaps youcan believe this," said he drily as he touched the ear. "What did I tellyou about keeping your cap down over your ears? Shure, 'tis a tenderfootand not a first class Scout at all, at all, thot ye be."

  "What do you mean?" demanded Hal as he slipped a glove off to feel ofthe ear. At the look of blank astonishment that swept across his face ashe discovered that the edge of his ear was stiff and wholly withoutfeeling the others roared with laughter.

  "I mean that you're frost-bitten already," replied Pat, "and I hope thatthis will be a lesson to the whole bunch of you. You may not feel him,but old Jack Frost is right on the job just the same, and it don't do uphere to needlessly expose yourself. It is because the air is so dry thatyou don't feel the frost, but you freeze just the same. We'll run overto that point and thaw you out, and then I guess you'll keep your capdown where it belongs."

  At the point Pat rubbed the frosted ear vigorously with a handful ofsnow until the frost was out and for a few minutes Hal danced with theache of it, while the others grinned. "That's one on me, all right, andyou're welcome to laugh, but little Hal Harrison has learned his lesson.No more frost-bites for me, thank you," he growled. "I don't wish youfellows any hard luck, but I hope you'll get a taste of it yourselvesjust to know what it feels like."

  Walter and Sparrer took warning from Hal's experience and saw to it thattheir ears were well covered before they started on. As they drew nearthe end of the lake Old Baldy and Mount Seward loomed up with a grandeurand forbidding austerity that was almost menacing, and which was yetgrandly heroic. The long pier of Woodcraft Camp jutting out into thelake was now clearly visible and on the end of it were two figureswaving greetings.

  "It's the Big Chief and Mother Merriam! Let's give them the old yell!"cried Upton.

  They stopped and with Upton to lead sent the old Woodcraft yell ringingdown the lake--"Whoop-yi-yi-yi! Whoop-yi-yi-yi! Whoop-yi-yi-yi!Woodcraft!" And even as the echoes flung it back from Old Baldy it wasreturned to them in the mingled voices of a man and a woman. The doctorand Mrs. Merriam were sending them welcome.

  A few minutes later they reached the pier and were exchanging warmgreetings. Sparrer had felt a natural diffidence at the thought ofmeeting the man of whom he had heard so much, but it vanished in thefirst hand-clasp and by the time he had reached the snug cabin he feltas if he had always known this great-hearted, kindly man and thesweet-faced woman whom the others called "Mother." In a dim way heunderstood the loyalty and affection of his comrades for these two whowere devoting their lives to the making of strong men from weak boys.