The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border

CHAPTER VII
AN UNWELCOME INTRUDER

“Oh! what did you see inside the cabin, Andy?” gasped Tubby, beginning to look alarmed, and shrinking back a little, because he did not happen to be carrying one of the two guns in the party.

“Wow! Talk to me about your Jabberwock!” ejaculated Andy, making his face assume an awed expression that added to Tubby’s state of dismay. “He’s in there!”

“But how could a big bull moose get inside a cabin, when the door’s shut, and fastened with a bar?” questioned the amazed and incredulous fat scout.

“It isn’t any moose,” scoffed Andy, and, turning to Rob, he went on: “I tell you, the biggest bobcat I ever set eyes on is in there, and has been having a high old time scratching around among the provisions left by Uncle George and his party. Oh, his yellow eyes looked like balls of phosphorus in the half gloom. I thought he was going to jump for me, so I slammed the door shut, and set the bar again.”

“A wildcat, do you say?” observed Rob, looking decidedly interested. “Well, one thing sure, Uncle George never meant that generous invitation for this destructive creature. As he couldn’t very well read the notice, or lift that heavy bar, it stands to reason the cat found some other way of entering the bunk-house.”

“How about the chimney, Rob?” asked Andy, as quick as a flash.

“Now I wouldn’t be much surprised if that turned out to be his route,” mused the scout leader. “They have a wonderful sense of smell, you know, and this fellow soon learned that there were things good to eat inside the cabin. Finding the place deserted, so far as his two-footed enemies were concerned, he must have prowled all around, and finally mounted to the roof. Then the opening in the chimney drew his attention, and getting bolder as time passed, he finally dropped down.”

Tubby, who had been listening with rapt attention, now broke out again.

“He must be a mighty bold cat to do that, I should say, fellows. Goodness knows how much damage he’s done to Uncle George’s precious stores. Oh! doesn’t it seem like a shame to have a miserable pussycat spoiling the stuff you’ve gone and nearly broken your back to pack away up here? But will we have to pitch a camp in one of those other smaller buildings, and let the bobcat hold the fort in the comfortable bunkhouse, with its jolly cooking fireplace?”

Thereupon Andy snorted in disdain.

“I’d like to see myself doing that cowardly thing, Tubby!” he exclaimed. “Possession may be nine points of the law, but in this case there’s something bigger than the law, and that’s self-preservation. That beast is going to pay for his meddling, if I know what’s what. Rob, how’d we better go at the job?”

“Just as you said a while back, Andy,” the scout master told him, “the hand of every man is always raised against such varmints in the woods as panthers and bobcats and weasels and such animals as destroy heaps of game, both in the fur and in the feather. If I could have shot that panther without harming the deer I’d have been only too pleased to do it; but the whole thing happened too rapidly for us. As to just what our plan of campaign now ought to be, that’s worth considering.”

They had deposited their bundles on the ground and stepped back, while both Andy and Rob held their guns ready for business. Tubby watching saw that the former continued to keep his eyes fastened on the chimney of the low bunk-house all the while he talked; and from that he drew conclusions.

“You’re thinking, I expect, Rob,” Tubby ventured to say, “that what goes up in the air must come down again; and that as the cat dropped into the wide-throated chimney he’s just got to climb up again, sooner or later. Am I right, Rob?”

“A good guess, Tubby, believe me,” chuckled Andy. “What we want to do now is to respectfully but firmly influence that unwelcome guest to get busy, and vamoose the ranch in a hurry. Say, I’m ready to give him the warmest kind of a reception as soon as he shows the tip of his whiskered nose above the top of the chimney.”

“Here, Tubby, lend me a hand,” said Rob, “and we’ll try to coax Mr. Cat to vacate his present quarters. Andy, I’ll lay my gun down alongside you here, and if yours isn’t enough to finish the rogue, snatch up mine in a hurry.”

Andy agreed to that, and so the other two walked forward again to the front of the long log building, where the door was situated. Tubby was curious to know how his companion expected to work that “influence” he spoke of, and cause the ferocious intruder to depart as he came. He awaited the outcome with considerable interest.

“First,” said Rob, as though he already had his mind settled, “we’ll pick up a few handfuls of these chips and twigs that are so plentiful.”

“Whee! but burning the old cabin down to get rid of a cat that stays inside would be what they’d call heroic treatment, wouldn’t it, Rob?”

“I’m not doing anything as severe as that, Tubby,” said the other. “We’re going to try the smoke cure. All animals are in deadly fear of fire, and smoke will cause even a horse to become fairly wild. We can make our little fire close to the door, and the breeze which happens to be just right, will carry some of the smoke under it, for notice that wide crack there. When the cat sniffs that odor you’ll see how fast he scrambles up that chimney again.”

It all looked very simple to Tubby now; so those Spanish courtiers who had been declaring that discovering America was no great task after Columbus had shown them how to stand an egg on an end, doubtless sneered and said it was easy enough.

The little heap of trash was ignited, and just as Rob had said, it began to emit a pungent smoke that was driven against and under the door by the breeze.

“Keep ready, Andy!” Rob called out. “I thought I heard a scratching sound just then!”

Tubby ran back so as to be able to see the crown of the low chimney. He was only in time, and no more, for even as he managed to glimpse the apex of the slab-and-hard-mud vent something suddenly came into view. As Tubby stared with round eyes he saw a monstrous wildcat crouching there, looking this way and that, as if tempted to give battle to its human enemies, by whom it had been dispossessed from the scene of its royal feast.

Then there came a loud crash. Andy had fired his gun. Tubby shivered as he saw the big feline give a wild leap upward and then come struggling down the slight slope of the roof, clawing furiously, and uttering screams of expiring fury.

Andy was ready to send in a second shot if it chanced to be needed, but this proved not to be the case, for the struggles of the stricken beast quickly ended. The three boys hurried forward, and stood over the victim of Andy’s clever marksmanship. The cat was one of the largest Rob had ever run across, and even in death looked so terrible that Tubby had an odd shiver run through his system as he stared in mingled awe and curiosity down at the creature.

“Too bad in one way that the poor old thing couldn’t finish his feast in peace,” Tubby was saying, “but then I suppose it’s the chances of war. There’s always a state of open war between these bobcats and all men who walk in the woods.”

“Well, I should say yes!” cried Andy, patting himself proudly on the chest. “I’ll always call this one of the best day’s jobs I ever did. Think of the pretty partridges, the innocent squirrels, the bounding jack-rabbits and such things, that I’ve saved the lives of with that one grand shot. If this beast lived three years longer it’d surprise you, Tubby, to count up the immense amount of game that it’d devour in that time. I never spare a cat under any circumstances.”

“Do you think it was all alone in the cabin?” asked the timid one.

“We’ll soon find out,” Andy told him, as he saw to it that his gun was in condition again for immediate use, and then started toward the closed door.

Cautiously this was opened a trifle, and one by one the boys peered through the crevice; all agreed that there was nothing stirring, and so eventually they made bold to pass inside.

It was discovered that the uninvited guest had made free with some of the stores of the party, but after all, the damage did not amount to a great deal, possibly owing to the coming of Rob and his two chums on the scene shortly after the cat started chewing at the half of a ham it had dragged down from a rafter.

The boys quickly removed all signs of feline presence. Andy declared that he intended skinning his prize, for the pelt if properly cured would make quite an attractive mat for his den at home. It would be pleasant of a winter evening, when resting in his easy chair, to gaze down upon the trophy, and once again picture that stirring scene up there in Maine, under the whispering pines, hemlocks and birches.

They adjusted themselves to the new conditions with that free and easy spirit so natural in most boys. It was next in order to pick out the bunks they meant to occupy while in the logging camp; for there were signs to tell them which had been already chosen by Uncle George and his two guides; and of course, no one thought to settle upon any of these particular sleeping-places.

They soon had a fire burning, and the interior looked quite cheerful. Sitting there Tubby could easily picture what a stirring scene it must have been in those times long gone by when a dozen, perhaps even a score, of muscular lumber jacks lounged about that same dormitory and living room, waiting for the cook’s call to supper.

Later on Tubby came up to Rob while the other was arranging some of the contents of his pack, “scrambled” more or less, as he called it, by being carried for several days on his back, and thrown about “every which-way.”

“Look here, Rob,” the fat scout said, “I happened to run across Uncle George’s fresh log of the trip. He always keeps one, and I’ve even had the pleasure of reading about some exciting adventures he’s met with in former years. So that’s my only excuse for glancing at what he’s jotted down here. The last entry is where he made up his mind to go over to the Tucker Pond to try again for that giant moose. And by the way, Rob, I was wondering whether our excited visitor of last night could be this big chap Uncle George is so wild to get?”

“Now that might be so,” admitted the scout leader, “though the thought hadn’t occurred to me before. He certainly was a buster of a beast, though he went off so fast none of us more than got a glimpse of his size. Anything of unusual importance in the beginning of your uncle’s log, Tubby?”

“Oh, he got a deer on the opening day of the season, and we’ll probably find some of the venison around, if we look again sharply. Something did happen it seems, something that gave my uncle considerable unhappiness, too. He lost one of his two guides.”

“What! did the man die here?” ejaculated the astounded Rob.

“Oh! my stars! no, Rob, not quite so bad as that,” Tubby hastened to add. “He had to discharge the man because of something he’d done. Uncle doesn’t say what it was, but he was both indignant and pained; because he thought a heap of Zeb Crooks, who had been with him many seasons. The man was stubborn, too, and wouldn’t ask Uncle George to forgive him, or it might have all been patched up. So he sent him flying, and started off to Tucker’s Pond with his other guide, a Penobscot Indian named Sebattis.”

“Well, that’s interesting, Tubby,” remarked Rob. “It doesn’t mean anything to us, though I can understand how sorry your uncle must have been to part with a man he used to consider faithful. So it goes, and lots of things happen that are disagreeable. I suppose he’ll have just as good a time with the one guide to wait on him as when there were a pair.”

Apparently Uncle George’s troubles did not bother Rob to any extent; but there were things weighing on his mind though, during that afternoon, and these had a connection with the flight of that man in the aeroplane, over across the Canadian boundary line.

CHAPTER VIII
TUBBY HAS AN ADVENTURE

Tubby was particularly interested in looking around. He had heard so much about these hunting camps of his sport-loving relative that now he had the chance to see for himself he kept prowling about. It was Tubby who presently discovered a haunch of fresh venison. Andy immediately announced that the keen-nosed wildcat was not in the same class with the stout chum.

“Say, we can have a mess of real venison for our camp supper to-night,” added the delighted Tubby. “Haven’t we a warrant for taking liberties in that Notice, where Uncle George invites the pilgrim to enter, wait, and make merry? How can any one be merry without a feast? I’ll take all the responsibility on my shoulders, boys, so make up your minds the main dish to-night will be deer meat.”

Later in the afternoon Tubby wandered outside to look around.

“Don’t go too far away and get lost, Tubby!” called out Rob, who himself was busily engaged.

“Oh, I don’t mean to more than stretch my legs,” came the reply. “Here’s a bucket, and there must be a spring somewhere handy. I think I’d like a drink of fresh water. I might as well fetch some back with me. Yes, now I can see a beaten path leading from the door in this direction. Rob, I won’t be gone long.”

“All right, Tubby,” Andy called out in turn. “If you don’t turn up inside of half an hour we’ll send out a relief corps to look for you. Be sure to fetch a supply of that spring water back with you. I’m getting a bit dry myself.”

So Tubby walked off. He was feeling in the best of spirits. He believed his troubles were mostly in the past, and the immediate future looked as rosy as the sky at dawn. In another day or two Uncle George would surely turn up, when the little operation of having that paper signed could be carried out. Then for a week of unalloyed happiness, roving the pine woods, feasting on royal game, and enjoying the society of the world-wide sportsman at evening time, when sitting in front of a cheery blaze inside that bunk-house the boys would be entertained with wonderful stories of the amazing scenes Uncle George had run across during his long and adventurous career.

Tubby had no difficulty in following that beaten path. In going to and from the spring the guides had made such a plain track that even a worse greenhorn than Tubby might have kept right. In fact, to stray would have been unpardonable sin in the eyes of a scout.

It proved to be much longer than he had expected. Tubby fancied that there was another water place closer to the camp, though Uncle George for some reason of his own preferred this spring. The path turned this way and that, passing around high barriers of lopped-off branches, now dead, and beginning to decay as time passed. Tubby could not but shudder as he contemplated the effect of a stray lighted match thrown into one of these heaps of dead stuff, that would prove as so much tinder. He hoped they would not have the ill luck to witness a forest fire.

Finally he came to the spring. It was a fine one, too, clear and bubbling. Tubby lay as flat as he could, and managed after considerable exertion to get a satisfying drink of that cold water.

“My, but that is good!” he told himself, after he had once more resumed an upright position. “I don’t wonder at them coming all this distance to get a supply of water. Now to fill my bucket, and trot back over the trail; and by the same token it won’t be just as easy a job as coming out was. But then the boys will thank me for my trouble, and that’s quite enough.”

As Tubby started off, carrying the pail of water, he suddenly bethought himself once again of that tremendous bobcat Andy had killed. It occurred to Tubby that he had been informed such creatures were always to be found in pairs. What if the mate to the defunct cat should bar his way, and attack him, recognizing in him one of the party that had been the means of making her a feline widow?

Tubby did not like the idea at all. He cast numerous nervous looks about him, as he hastened his steps a little. As a rule he swept the lower branches of the trees with those keen glances, for if the bobcat were lying in wait to waylay him it would select some such roost for its hiding place.

Then all at once Tubby plainly heard a sound behind him, that was exactly like the swift patter of feet in the dead leaves and pine needles. He whirled around and immediately experienced one of the greatest shocks of his whole life!

In and out of the aisles of the forest a moving object came pattering along. Tubby saw that it was about knee high and of a singular dun color. To his eyes it looked terribly fierce!

“Oh, murder! It must be a savage wolf, come across from Canada!” was what he told himself, remembering something he had heard a man say while they were waiting at a little wayside station in Maine, about such beasts of prey having been unusually plentiful up in Canada in the preceding spring, and bolder than ever known before.

Tubby wanted to drop his water pail and run like mad. He also would have liked to give a series of shouts, not that he was frightened, of course, but to sort of alarm the animal and cause him to turn tail; but his tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of his mouth in the queerest way ever, and which for the life of him he could not understand.

But while he still held on to the bucket Tubby did manage to get his legs in motion once more; he was far from being paralyzed. The animal kept advancing and stopping by turns. Tubby thought the wolf was laying a plan to surround him, when the beast trotted to one side or the other. Yes, and the cunning of the animal to wag his tail that way, and act as though pleased to see him! Tubby thought of that ancient fairy story about Little Red Riding Hood, and how she met a wolf on the way to her grandmother’s home. They always were tricky creatures, no matter in what country found; but Tubby was on his guard.

By now at least he had managed to regain his voice, and when the wolf trotted closer than he thought was safe he would make violent gestures with his arms, and try to shoo him away. Apparently the beast did not know just how to catch Tubby napping, for he continued to trot along, forcing himself to look as amiable, Tubby saw, as he possibly could, although not deceiving the boy in the least.

“You can’t fool me with your making out to want to be friendly, you miserable old scamp!” he chattered, after he had actually put down the now only half filled bucket, the better to throw up both arms, and pretend to be picking up stones, all of which hostile actions caused the obstinate creature to dart away a short distance although quickly coming on again. “Get out, I tell you! Oh, why didn’t I think to get the loan of Rob’s gun! What if he tumbles me down in spite of all my fighting like mad! But, thank goodness, there’s the cabin, and maybe I can make it yet!”

He did in the end, and burst upon the other pair like a thunderbolt, so that both boys scrambled to their feet, and Rob exclaimed:

“What ails you, Tubby? Have you seen that big bull moose again – and did he attack you?”

“Oh, Rob! Andy! The wolf! The wolf!” stammered Tubby, now completely out of breath; but he had said quite enough, for the two boys snatched up their firearms and darted out of the cabin.

Tubby waited, fully expecting to hear shots, and perhaps wild yelping. Instead he soon caught the sound of whistling, and then he heard the boys laughing heartily. While Tubby stared and waited they came back into the bunk-house. The panting fat boy was startled to see trotting alongside, leaping up again and again, his terrible “wolf”!

“W-w-what’s all this mean, fellows?” he stammered in bewilderment, at the same time dimly comprehending how his fears had magnified the evil.

“Only that your wolf turns out to be a poor dog that’s probably got lost in the woods and was trying to make friends with you,” laughed Rob.

Tubby quickly recovered, and joined in the laugh. The joke was on him. He no longer declined to make up with the four-footed stranger. His heart was tender, and he repented having called the wretched beast so many hard names. Tubby was really the first to discover that the dog acted as though almost famished, sniffing around, and looking longingly up toward the hams that hung from the rafter.

“Oh, you poor fellow!” said Tubby. “I bet you’re as hungry as can be. Haven’t had a single bite for a whole day? I guess I know what that means. I’ll fix you out in a jiffy, see if I don’t; Uncle George will say I’m doing the decent thing by you, too. Here, Wolf, for I’m going to call you that just for a joke, watch me get you a hunk of the poorest part of that haunch of venison.”

Tubby was as good as his word, too. The stray dog had reason to rejoice over the freak of fortune that had sent him in the way of these new friends. Indeed, he gave promise of turning out to be quite a welcome addition to the party, for all of the scouts were fond of pet animals that could show affection. Wolf duly licked Tubby’s plump hand after being fed, as his only way of displaying dog gratitude.

So the long afternoon wasted away. As evening approached the boys gave up all hope of seeing Uncle George that day. But then none of them worried, for things had turned out splendidly so far, and they could find reason to hope for the return of the party within forty-eight hours at most.

Tubby was as good as his word, too, and cut off quite a bountiful supply of that nice fresh venison, which he cooked with some strips of bacon; for all of them knew that this was the only proper way in which such meat should be used, since it was too dry to be attractive otherwise.

They pronounced the supper “gilt-edged,” which in boyish language means the acme of perfection. As every one, including even “Wolf,” whose appetite seemed boundless, proved to be exceedingly hungry, the repast was a royal feast. Then they sat around the fire, chatting and telling stories. Tubby even started up one of their school songs, and being joined by the other pair, the low rafters of that bunk-house resounded with the glorious refrain. In days past sounds far less innocent, ribald language and loud oaths, may have been heard within those walls, for as a rule the sturdy lumber jacks are the roughest kind of men, as hard as some of the knots they strike with their axes.

An hour or so later the boys settled down for a good sleep. Wolf had been let out for a run, and did not come back again, so Rob said he must be feeling so refreshed after his feed that he wanted to take a turn around, possibly in hopes of finding his lost home; or again it might be he was desirous of running a deer, for Wolf was a guide’s dog, they had determined.

When they all retired the dog had not shown up again. Andy said he was an ungrateful cur, deserting his friends in that fashion; but Tubby stood up manfully for the dog, declaring that it was only right he should want to find his own people.

The fire had been allowed to die down, and Rob meant to let it go out. To shut the glow from their eyes he had made use of a rude screen doubtless intended for this very purpose by Uncle George.

An hour, perhaps several, passed away. Then Rob felt some one clawing at his arm, after which a low whisper sounded close to his ear. It was Andy, and he had something to communicate that was quite enough to cause a thrill to shoot through the heart of the aroused scout master.

“Listen, Rob, and keep very still,” said Andy softly. “There’s some one outside the door trying to get in. I heard him try the latch and give a push; and I think he’s gone to prowling around, trying each of the wooden shutters over the windows in turn.”