CHAPTER XXVI. THE KEEPERS OF THE CAMP.
When Bumpus and Smithy saw their comrades pass away toward the north,leaving the camp in their full charge, they were immediately impressedwith a sense of great responsibility.
The stout scout in particular seemed to feel that it was a post of honorto which they had been assigned by the patrol leader. Of course this waspartly due to what Thad had told him at the time he picked out the pairto remain behind and take care of their few possessions.
"We've got to be faithful and wide awake, Smithy," Bumpus told hiscomrade; "for it'd be a terrible calamity if the boys came back here,tired and played out, only to find that the enemy had captured the campin their absence. And let me tell you, that would reflect on you and meforever and a day afterward. You know that Thad expects every fellow todo his duty. So we'll keep on the watch every minute of the time tillthey come back again."
Smithy appeared to be duly impressed with the gravity of the occasion.Bumpus of course made sure to carry the only weapon that had been left intheir charge; but as it was his gun, and he knew more about handling itthan Smithy did, it seemed only right that this should be so. But theother member of the home guard had seen some of the boys who went offarming themselves with stout cudgels, and he thought it wise to imitatetheir example, though at the same time seriously doubting his ability tomake good use of the same, should an emergency arise.
"Yes, what you say is true, Bumpus," he remarked seriously. "The motto ofall good scouts is 'Be prepared,' and we must surely live up to it. WhileI sincerely hope nothing will happen to call for a defense of the camp,still I'm ready to assume my share of the burden in case of necessity."
Now, Smithy always liked to use long words, and his manner was somethinglike that of an important pedagogue; but the boys had learned that underall this surface veneering Smithy was true gold, and, as Giraffe said,"O. K."
He had never been the one to indulge in rough-and-tumble "horse play"while in camp, like Giraffe, Step Hen and Davy, for instance; but onseveral occasions the others had seen his metal tested, and Smithy hadcome out with flying colors.
His face might get white when danger impended, but he had the right kindof nerve, and would stand up for another, no matter what threatened.Smithy was exceedingly modest, and always apologizing for his lack ofstamina; but Thad knew he was no coward under it all.
The minutes passed slowly as the two boys sat there by the cheery fire.Naturally they kept listening eagerly, half expecting to hear some suddenwild clamor that would announce the discovery of the tramps, and adesperate effort on the part of their chums to make them prisoners.
They remembered that these men were both big fellows, and undoubtedlymore or less to be feared, especially when their passions were aroused.
"Don't seem to be anything doing so far," Bumpus remarked, as he pokedthe fire, and immediately afterward raised his head, as well as his fatneck would allow, the better to listen intently.
"And you'd think they'd had sufficient time to reach the upper end of theisland, too?" Smithy went on to say reflectively.
"Oh! well, the real drive only begins then, you see," Bumpus informedhim, with rather an important air. "Thad said they meant to strikestraight for the place where we landed, and then comb the ground as theycame along. I don't just know what he meant by that same word, but itsounds good to me. When you comb a thing you get everything out, even thetangles; and if the tramps are hiding somewhere on the island they'll befound."
"Trust Thad for that," assented Smithy, who had the greatest admirationfor and confidence in the scout master.
"What was that moved then?" exclaimed Bumpus, reaching out, and takinghold of his gun with hands that trembled more or less, though at the sametime his teeth were grimly set, and his eyes shone with determination."Sho!" he added, after a half minute of terrible suspense, "look at that,will you, only a sassy little striped chipmunk, after all, friskingaround to see if we hadn't spilled some crumbs when we had our breakfast.But I'm afraid he'll be badly disappointed, because there ain't anycrumbs when you've only had grits for your morning meal."
After that they sat there for some little time with senses on the alert,waiting for some sign from the chums who had recently left them.
"One thing sure," Bumpus finally remarked, showing what was constantly onhis mind; "they've just got to pass by this way sooner or later. Coursewe'll see 'em then; and so don't be surprised if the brush begins to moveover yonder, because it'll be one of our chums."
"But wouldn't it be the proper caper for them to warn us before they showup?" asked Smithy. "They know you've got a gun, and that's always adangerous toy for a boy to handle, according to my way of thinking. Why,you might imagine they were the tramps, and give them a shot before yousaw they were our chums."
"Listen!" said Bumpus, with a broad grin.
There came from amidst the thick brush a peculiar sound that was supposedto resemble the barking of a fox. Of course both guards recognized it asthe well-known signal with which members of the Silver Fox Patrol madetheir presence known to one another when in the forest, or in thedarkness of night.
"Answer him, Bumpus," exclaimed Smithy, "because you can do it betterthan I've ever been able to. There he goes again, and louder than before.It must be Giraffe, I should think. Let him know we hear him, Bumpus."
Accordingly the stout boy did his very best to imitate the sharp littlebark of a fox; it did not matter whether red, black or gray, so long asthe sound carried out the idea intended.
At that a head arose above a line of brush, and the smiling face ofGiraffe was discovered. He made a motion with his hand to indicate thathe and his five fellow scouts were headed south.
"No signs of 'em so far, Giraffe?" asked Bumpus, in a cautious tone; andin answer the other shook his head in the negative, after which he oncemore dropped out of sight, and doubtless moved away on his mission.
The pair by the fire now prepared for quite a long siege. They guessedthat it would take the others quite some time to cover the balance of theisland, although of course no one in the patrol knew as yet just what thedimensions of their strange prison might be.
"Supposing they run across George and his companion, will they let usknow of their good fortune?" Smithy asked, after a while, when nothingcame to their ears save the sound of the running river and the cawing ofthe noisy crow band in the tree tops.
"Why, yes," Bumpus told him, "Thad promised to send the news along ifthey were successful, and bagged both hoboes. I keep hoping every minuteto get the call. You know, Smithy, lots of savage people have a way ofsending news by sound, and by smoke, from one station to another. Theysay in Africa they can get word over hundreds of miles in less'n no time.I'm a great believer in that sort of wireless telegraphy."
"Yes," remarked Smithy, with something approaching humor, at least asnear as he ever was known to get to the joking stage, "I've noticed that,when you start to shouting for your supper, because you can make thegreatest racket going. But all the same this thing of keeping camp whilethe rest of the boys are on the move is rather prosy, I think."
"Why, Thad assured me that any kind of a fellow could just push throughall that scramble of brush; but it takes a different sort to be trustedwith the responsible task of guarding the home base. He begged me not tothink it meant any reflection on our abilities, Smithy. Yes, he evencalled us the hub of the wheel, of which each of the others was only aspoke."
That information rather bolstered up Smithy's drooping spirits for alittle while; but the solemn stillness that surrounded them on all sidessoon began to make him drowsy again.
He had not secured his customary sleep latterly, and the warmth of thefire assisted in causing his eyes to become heavy.
Bumpus noticed this. Several times he talked to his companion, with thesole idea of keeping Smithy on the alert; but in the end he found that itdid not seem to avail to any extent, for the replies he received wereinclined to be hazy, as
if the brain of the other had begun to yield tothat drowsy feeling.
"Oh! well," Bumpus told himself, "what's the use bothering the poortenderfoot? Smithy isn't used to this, even if he is a pretty goodfellow. He's still mamma's darling boy more or less, and not accustomedto roughing it, like the rest of us. He'll learn in time, I reckon.Fortunately there's no danger of _me_ failing to stand the great test.Huh! I've been through the mill, I have, and proven my worth more'nonce."
All the same it seemed that despite his brave words Bumpus also felt hiseyes growing heavy before long. Once he even aroused with a start, as hishead fell forward with a lurch, giving him a little twinge in his neck.
"Here, this won't do, Bumpus Hawtree!" he told himself severely; "youjust get busy, and show what a loyal, faithful scout you are. Want Thadto drop in here, and find you sound asleep on your post, do you? Well,that would be a nice pickle, believe me. Smithy is only a poor tenderfootat best, and not a seasoned veteran. He might be excused, but what wouldhappen to you, tell me that?"
The idea seemed so monstrous that Bumpus immediately scrambled to hisfeet, although his actions did not seem to interfere at all with thepeaceful dreams of the sleeping scout. Smithy still sat there, with hishead bowed down on his breast, and no doubt resting under the happybelief that he was once more safe at home, after all this trying flightalong the flood-swept valley of the Susquehanna.
Bumpus walked away.
He thought he would feel more wide-awake if he gave that fire the coldshoulder, and exercised his benumbed limbs some. He took his gun, ofcourse, for Bumpus had learned a certain degree of caution through hisformer experiences; and it turned out to be a most fortunate thing he hadthat sagacity.
After walking about for a little while Bumpus settled down alongside atree, and once more allowed himself to think of a number of eventsconnected with the past, as well as his pleasant home, now so far away.
He was aroused by what seemed to be the crackling of a twig. Thisstartled him, because his scout training declared that such a sound mustalways be accounted exceedingly suggestive.
Bumpus silently arose to his knees, and, gripping his gun tightly in hisfat hands, looked all around him. A slight movement caught his attention.It was directly toward the fire that he looked, and what he saw thrilledhim through and through.
A man was actually creeping forward on hands and knees, stealing alongwith a manner suggestive of a cat. Bumpus did not need to note the factthat this party was wearing a blue army overcoat, now muddy, and ratherforlorn-looking, to realize that it could be no other than the long-lostWandering George, the tramp whom they had trailed all the way fromfar-distant Scranton.
That he had some evil design in approaching the camp so secretly therecould be no possible doubt. Smithy was still dozing there, and would fallan easy prey to the scheming tramp, unless some comrade came boldly tothe rescue. So Bumpus drew in a long breath, clinched his teeth, andrising to his feet moved forward.