The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp

CHAPTER XX
THE CANOES FOUND

Merritt made a spring up the side of the steep-walled little ravine. He succeeded in grabbing an outgrowing bush and drawing himself up to a ledge about ten feet above the ground. Tubby followed him. But the fat boy’s weight proved too much for the slender roots of the plant. It ripped out of the cleft in which it grew, and Tubby, with a frightened cry, went rolling over and over down the steep acclivity. He fell right in the path of the advancing stag. The creature saw him and prepared to gore him with its horns. But just as Tubby was giving himself up for lost, an inspiration seized Merritt.

A big stone lay close at hand. He grabbed it up and hurled it with all his might at the buck. The lad’s experience on the baseball diamond stood him in good stead at this trying moment.

The rock, with all the power of Merritt’s healthy young muscles behind it, struck the buck between the eyes. The animal staggered and snorted. For one critical instant it hesitated, its sharp forefeet almost on the recumbent fat boy. Then, with a shrill sort of whinny of terror, it swung, as swiftly and gracefully as a cat, and clattered off, running at top speed.

Merritt lost no time in clambering down to Tubby, who was sitting up and looking about him in a comical dazed way.

“H-h-h-has it gog-g-g-gone?” he stammered.

“I should say so,” laughed Merritt, “it stood not on the order of its going, but – got! as they say in the classics.”

“I’m glad of that,” remarked Tubby, getting up slowly, “I could almost feel those antlers investigating my anatomy. Let’s see how far he’s run.”

The two boys made for the entrance of the ravine. Gaining it they had a good view up and down the beach in either direction. On a distant projection of rock stood the buck. He was looking back. As he saw the boys he wheeled abruptly and dashed into the forest.

“Too bad,” said Tubby shaking his head with a serious air.

“What’s too bad?” asked Merritt, struck by the other’s pensive air.

“Why, if he’d stood still a little longer and we’d had a gun we might have shot him,” rejoined Tubby with a perfectly serious face.

They turned, and as they did so a shout burst from the lips of both.

Bobbing about serenely on the placid water, not half a mile in the other direction, was the red canoe.

“I’ll bet the others are ashore right there, too,” cried Tubby.

As he spoke the stout boy dashed off at surprising speed for one of his build. It was all Merritt could do to keep up with him.

It was as Tubby had suspected. The blue and the green canoes lay on the beach, their bows just resting on the sand. The paddles were in them and it was an easy task to embark and capture the red craft. This was made fast to the one Tubby paddled and the boys, congratulating each other warmly, set out for the camp. As they glided along Tubby uplifted his voice.

 
“R-o-o-w, brothers, row!
The stream runs fast!
The rap – ids are ne-ar
And the day – light’s past.”
 
 
“Ro-o-w – ”
 

“But it isn’t rowing, it’s paddling,” objected Merritt.

“Whoever heard of a rhyme to paddling?” demanded Tubby, “you might as well expect one to motor boating,” and he resumed his song.

As they drew near to the spot where the camp had been pitched they saw the black figure of Jumbo on the beach. Tubby hailed him in a loud voice. Instantly the negro looked up, and as his eyes fell on the canoes he tossed the frying pan he was scouring high into the air. It descended on his head again with a resounding whack.

But that African head seemed hardly to feel it. Bounding and snapping his fingers in joy, Jumbo raced up to the camp, electrifying everybody with the glad news that the canoes had been found.

“How on earth did you discover them, boys?” demanded the major, as the prows grated on the beach and a glad rush of excited feet followed.

“Simple,” said Tubby, with a grand air and a sweep of his hands, “simple. They were up in a tree, just as I suspected.”

Before long Merritt had to tell the real story. But when they looked about for Tubby to congratulate him that modest youth had slipped away. He was found later, devouring a raisin pie of Jumbo’s baking.

“You deserve pie and anything else you fancy,” said the major warmly.

“There’s only one thing I’d fancy right now,” rejoined Tubby.

“What is that?”

“I’d like to have hold of Freeman Hunt for about ten minutes.”

An examination of the canoes showed that, as Tubby had guessed, their mooring ropes had chafed through during the wind storm of the night before. This set them wondering how Hunt and his companions could have escaped from the cove. The next day on resuming their journey they examined the place – the entrance to which was not found without difficulty – but of Hunt and his gang no trace was found but the embers of the camp fire. Rob and Jumbo viewed with interest the rope ladder which lay in a heap at the foot of the cliff, just as it had fallen on the night that they made their escape. Further investigation showed that, by walking along the lake shore, the rascals who had harried the Boy Scouts must have managed to find a place to climb up to the forests above.

“I’m sorry they got away,” said Merritt.

“So are we all, I expect,” said the professor. “I don’t suppose we shall ever see them again now.”

“I hardly think so,” agreed the major.

“Dere’s only one man ah’d lak ter see ag’in,” put in Jumbo.

“Who is that?” inquired Rob.

“Dat five hundred dollah baby wid de black whiskers,” was the prompt rejoinder; “de nex’ time ah gits mah han’s on him ah’m gwine ter fin’ de bigges’ chain ah can, den ah’m gwine ter fasten dat to de bigges’ rock ah kin fin’ an’ den ah’s gwine ter k’lect!”

“I hope for your sake and for that of law and order that you succeed,” said the major, “liquor is vile stuff, anyhow. It’s bad enough that it is made legally in this country. It is ten thousand times worse when laws are broken to distil it. I’m afraid, however, that all the rascals have slipped through our fingers. We shall hardly set eyes on them again.”

How wrong the major was in this supposition we shall see before long. Such men as Stonington Hunt and his chosen companions are not so easily thrown off the trail for a rich prize. The thought of the treasure was in Hunt’s avaricious mind day and night, and already he was plotting fresh means of wresting the secret from its rightful possessors.

Possibly, if the major had seen an encounter which took place in the woods not so many hours before our party landed in the hidden cove, he might have felt less easy in his mind. Black Bart, in his flight, had encountered Hunt’s party. Creeping through the woods he had seen the light of their camp fire. He had approached it cautiously. But as he neared it, keeping in careful concealment, he recognized his erstwhile comrades, Dale and Pete Bumpus. Hesitating no longer to declare himself in his half-famished condition, he had come forward and been greeted warmly. What he had to tell of his meeting with Rob and Jumbo, held, as may be imagined, the deepest interest for Hunt and the others. The consultation and plan of campaign that resulted therefrom, were fraught with important results for our party.

What these were we must save for the telling in future chapters. But stirring events were about to overtake the Boy Scouts and their friends.

CHAPTER XXI
“THE RUBY GLOW.”

Camp, that night, was made at the portage of which the major had spoken. Although strict watch was kept all night nothing unusual occurred. Bright and early the work of the portage was commenced. The Major, Jumbo and Professor Jorum, each burdened themselves with a canoe, which they carried across their shoulders, turned bottom up and resting on a wooden “yoke.”

The lads carried the “duffle” and provisions. The portage, connecting the lake they had traversed with the one beyond, was over rough ground. In fact, at one place, they had to clamber up quite a ridge. It was rocky and grown with coarse undergrowth interspersed with scanty trees. Further on the trail ran beside quite a deep ravine.

Tubby, with his load of duffle, was slightly in advance of the other lads, and humming a song as he trudged along. With the curiosity natural to the stout youth, he could not refrain from wandering from the path to peer over into the depths of the gulch.

“My goodness!” he exclaimed to himself, as he gazed interestedly, “it would be no joke to fall in there.”

As he spoke he drew closer to the edge of the rift and craned his short neck to obtain a still better view of the abyss below him. At this juncture the others, laboring along the trail, caught up with him, and Rob gave the stout Scout a hail.

“Better come away from there, Tubby,” he warned, “you know what happened out west, when you went rubbering about the haunted caves.”

“It’s all right,” retorted the fat boy, “it looks nice and cool down in there. I’d like to – ”

The rest of his speech was lost in an alarmed exclamation from the onlookers.

As Tubby uttered his confident remark he seemed to vanish suddenly, like an actor in a stage spectacle who has dived through a trap door. Only a cloud of dust and a roar of stones sliding into the ravine told of what had happened to the over-confident youth. Standing too close to the edge he had stepped on an overhanging bit of ground and had been precipitated downward.

“Good gracious!” cried Rob, in real alarm, “he’s gone over!”

With a swift fear that Tubby’s accident might have resulted fatally, Rob was at the edge of the ravine in two jumps. The rest were not far behind him.

Rob experienced a feeling of intense relief, however, as he gazed into the depths. Some time before, a tree had become dislodged and slid into the rift. It lay upon the bottom of the place. Tubby, luckily for himself, had fallen into its branches and was, except for a few scratches, apparently unhurt.

“Are you injured?” demanded Rob, anxiously, nevertheless. He wanted to hear from Tubby’s own lips that he was all right.

“Nothing hurt but my feelings,” the stout youth assured him. “Say, it is cool down here.”

“Well, if nothing’s hurt but your feelings you’re all right,” cried Merritt; “you couldn’t hurt those with an axe.”

“Just you wait till I get out of here,” yelled Tubby from his leafy seat.

“Well, how are we going to get you up?” demanded Merritt. “Guess you’ll have to stay there till we get a ladder.”

“Tell you what we’ll do,” said Rob, “we’ll take the ropes off the packs and join them together. Then we can knot one end to one of the staves and haul Tubby up.”

“That’s a good idea,” called the stout youth, who had overheard, “and hurry up, too.”

“Gracious, it needs an elephant to haul your fat carcass out of there,” scoffed Merritt. “I guess we’ll take our time over it.”

“Take as long as you like, so long as you get me out,” parried Tubby, “you always were slow, anyhow, as the fellow said when he threw his dollar watch into the creek.”

It did not take long to rig up an extemporized life-line with the pack ropes. This done, one end was made fast to the staves, and the other lowered to Tubby. At Rob’s orders the rope was passed round a tree trunk, and when Tubby had adjusted the rope under his arm pits the young Scouts began to haul. As Merritt had said, Tubby was no lightweight. Once they had to stop, and the rope ran back quite a way. A yell from Tubby ensued.

“Hey! Keep on hauling there!” he roared, “what do you think I am, a sack of potatoes?”

“You feel like a sack of sash weights!” shouted Rob, “keep still now, and we’ll have you out in a jiffy.”

A few minutes later Tubby’s fat face, very red, appeared above the edge of the rift over which he had taken his abrupt plunge. Rob seized him by the shoulders and dragged him into safety.

“There now, for goodness sake don’t fall in again,” he said.

“As if you aren’t always telling me to fall in,” scoffed Tubby.

“When, pray?”

“Every time we drill,” said the stout youth solemnly, flicking some dust off his uniform with elaborate care.

Owing to the length of time occupied by extricating Tubby from his difficulties, the canoe bearers had become apprehensive of harm to the following body and had halted. Of course questions ensued when the rear guard came up.

“What happened?” demanded the major, noting the suppressed amusement on the lads’ faces.

“Oh, Tubby fell in again,” answered Merritt.

“Fell in?” asked the professor in an astonished tone.

“I went hunting for botanical specimens at the bottom of a ravine, professor,” said Tubby gravely.

“For botanical specimens? Most interesting. Pray did you find any?”

“Nothing but a Bumpibus Immenseibus,” replied Tubby with perfect gravity. The other boys had to turn aside and stuff their fists in their mouths to keep from laughing outright.

Even the major’s lip quivered. But the professor displayed immense interest. As for Jumbo, he was lost in admiration.

“Dat suttinly am de mos’ persuasive word I’ve done hearn in a long time,” he exclaimed. “Blumpibusibus Commenceibus. What am dat, fish, flesh or des corned beef?”

“It’s a pain,” rejoined Tubby, “and usually follows a fall. But not a fall in temperature, or – ”

“Ah, Hopkins, I fear you are making merry at my expense,” exclaimed the professor, good-naturedly.

“Well, I took a tumble, anyhow,” said Tubby.

“About time you did,” came in Merritt’s voice.

In the chase that ensued a wave of merriment burst loose. But time pressed, and the march was speedily resumed, with but a short interruption for lunch.

Late that afternoon they emerged on the shores of the other lake. It was a beautiful sheet of water, narrow and hemmed in by high hills which shot up abruptly on every side. At the far end could be seen a series of three peaks, jagged and sharp against the sky. The major turned to the professor, and both consulted the map and the translation of the cipher.

“When the ruby mound masks the Three Brothers take a course by the great dead pine. Four hundred to the west, three hundred to the north, and below the man of stone.”

Such were the words which the major read aloud from the professor’s translation.

“How do you interpret that, professor?” he asked.

“Why, plainly enough: the three brothers referred to are those three similar peaks,” said the professor; “the map indicates them. The ruby mound is not quite so clear. But I don’t doubt that we shall stumble across its meaning, and also that of ‘the man of stone,’ which, I confess, I cannot make out.”

“May be it’s some mass of rock that looks like a man,” volunteered Rob, who, like the others, had listened with eager attention while the major read.

“An excellent idea, my boy. That is possibly the correct meaning, although the old buccaneer may have spoken in riddles. Such men frequently did. However, we are at the gateway of our venture. To-morrow we shall know if it meets with success or failure.”

“To-morrow!” echoed the Boy Scouts.

“Ef ah could cotch dat five-hundred-dollah-pusson to-morrow dat would be all de treasure ah’d want,” mumbled Jumbo as he set down his canoe. He had kept it on his back up to now, like a shell on a black turtle.

“Ah don’ lak dis business ob interfussin’ wid a dead man’s belongin’s. No good ain’t gwine ter come uv it.”

“What are you mumbling about, Jumbo?” asked the major, overhearing some of this last.

“Why, majah, I was jes’ a communicatin’ to myself mah pussonal convictions on de subjec’ ob dead men’s gold.”

“Why, Jumbo, are you superstitious?” inquired the professor.

“No, sah. Ah’s bin vaccinated an’ am glad to say it took. We ain’t neber had no supposishishness in our fam’bly. But dis yar meddlin’ an monkeyin’ wid what belongs to dem as is daid and buried is bad bis’nis, sah – bad bis’nis.”

“I thought that you had more courage than that,” said the professor seriously.

“Ah got lots ob dat commodity, too, sah. Ah dassay dat ah is de bravest man in de – Oh! fo’ de law’s sake, wha’ dat? Oh, golly umptions! Majah! You Boy Scrouts, help!”

Jumbo suddenly cast himself down on the ground and began rolling over and over, trying to seize the major’s feet in his paroxysm of real alarm.

“Get up!” ordered the major curtly, “get up at once, you cowardly creature. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, mah goodness, majah, you didn’t see it. You had yo’ back to der bushes. So did de odders. But ah seed it.”

“Saw what, sir?”

“Oh, golly gumptions! De ugliest lilly face wid black whiskers an’ eyes dat I ebber seed. It was lookin’ frough de bushes an’ listening to you alls.”

“Where? Show me the place at once.”

The major’s tone was curt and fraught with a deeper meaning.

“Right hyah, sah, majah. Right hyah, dis am whar I seen dat homely lilly face. Yas sah.”

But although they made a thorough search of the vicinity no trace of a concealed listener could be found.

“I’d be half-inclined to put it down to Jumbo’s foolishness if it wasn’t that we know we have enemies in the mountains,” said the major, after supper that night.

“But as it is, sir?” asked Rob.

“As it is,” replied the major, “I think we had better keep a sharp look out and ‘Be Prepared.’ Jumbo’s description of that face seems to tally pretty closely with the countenance of Black Bart.”

“Just what I think,” rejoined Rob; “if he hadn’t got so frightened Jumbo might have secured that five hundred dollars after all.”

“Marse Rob,” said Jumbo, who had been listening intently, “you ebber hyah dat lilly story ’bout de man wot caught de wild cat?”

“No; heave ahead with the yarn, Jumbo,” said the major.

“Well, sah, onct upon a time two men was campin’. One went to der spring ter git watah. Pretty soon de one lef’ behin’ hearn de awfullest racket and caterwaulin’ by dat spring you ever hearn tell ob.

“‘What de mattah?’ he call.

“‘I got a wild cat!’ holler de man by de spring.

“‘Kain’t you hole him?’ hollers his fren’.

“‘I kin hole him all right,’ hollered de udder feller, ‘but I don’t know how ter let him go ag’in’.”

After the laughter excited by this narration had subsided, Jumbo rolled his eyes solemnly and cleared his throat. Then he spoke:

“An’ dat lilly nanny-goat (anecdote) applies sah, dat applies ter me and dis yar Black Bart or whateber his name am.”

CHAPTER XXII
THE BUCCANEER’S CAVE

“The three peaks are in line, but no trace of the ‘ruby glow’ the cipher speaks of.”

The speaker was Rob Blake. He and Merritt, in the red canoe, were in advance of the other craft. The first level rays of the early sun were slanting down over the precipitous hills surrounding the lake and gilding the placid sheet of water with a glittering effulgence. The canoes seemed to hang on the clear water as if suspended.

Right ahead of the adventurers, the three jagged peaks seen the previous evening had gradually swung into line, until the first and nearest one veiled the other two.

“Let’s run the canoe ashore. May be we shall come across something to make the meaning of the cipher plainer,” suggested Merritt.

Presently the bow of the canoe grazed the beach, and the two active young uniformed figures sprang out. For an instant they looked about them. Then suddenly Merritt gripped Rob’s arm with such a tight pressure that it actually pained.

“Look!” he cried, “look!”

Rob followed the direction of Merritt’s gaze and was tempted to echo his cry. Through the trees a rectangular mound of rock, with a dome-like summit, had just caught the rays of the sun.

In the early morning light it glittered as redly as if bathed in blood.

“The ruby glow!” breathed Rob poetically, gazing at the wonderful sight.

“Must be some sort of mica or crystal in the rock that catches the sunlight,” said the practical Merritt; “good thing we didn’t come here on a dull, cloudy day.”

“I guess so,” rejoined Rob; “we might easily have missed it.”

“Let’s get the others!” exclaimed Merritt. “See, the ruby glow is masking the Three Brothers.”

“That’s so,” agreed Rob, “this is the place, beyond a doubt.”

By this time the other canoes had been beached and their occupants were presently gazing in wrapt wonder at the spectacle. As the sun rose higher they could see the glow diminishing.

“Your ancestor chose his hiding place well,” said the professor to Major Dangerfield, “only at sunrise and at sunset can the glow be visible. At any other hour of the day there would be nothing unusual about that rock but its shape.”

Suddenly Tubby broke into song. He caught at the others’ hands. In a jiffy the Boy Scouts were dancing round in a joyous circle, singing at the top of their lungs:

 
“Ruby glow! ruby glow!
We have sought you long, you know!
Now you’re found we won’t let go
Till we get the treasure – ruby glow!”
 

“Rather anticipating, aren’t you, boys?” asked the major, “there is still quite a lot to be done before we discover the cavern where the treasure is supposed to be buried.”

But despite his calm words they could see that the major was quite as much excited as themselves at the idea of being on the threshold of great discoveries.

“Suppose we press forward,” suggested the professor presently; “I think that the base of the ruby mound is the place to start from.”

The canoes were hauled up on the beach and concealed in a high growth of tangled water plants. They did not wish to risk having them stolen for a second time. Then they struck forward into the gloom of the woods lying between the ruby mound and the lake. As they went the Boy Scouts hummed Tubby’s little song. Even Jumbo seemed to have cast off his gloom. His great eyes rolled with anticipation as they pressed on, ambition to find the treasure cavern lending wings to their feet.

Before long they were at the base of the ruby mound. It was quite bare, and rose up almost as if it had been artificially formed. The professor declared it to have been of glacial origin. Certain markings on it he interpreted as being Indian in design.

“They seem to indicate that at one time the Indians, who formerly roamed these mountains, used this mound as a watch tower,” he said. “It must have made a good one, too.”

“Too high colored for me,” said Tubby in an undertone.

But by this time the glow had fled from the conical-shaped top of the mound. It was a dull gray color now, and, except for its shape and barrenness, looked just like any other rock pile.

“There’s the dead pine!” cried Hiram suddenly.

“So it is!” exclaimed the major, as his gaze fell on an immense blasted trunk soaring above the rest of the trees, “boys, we are hot on the trail.”

“Looks so,” agreed Rob.

“Now, then,” exclaimed the professor, as they stood at the base of the pine, which appeared to have been blasted by lightning at some remote period, “now then, one of you boys pace off four hundred feet to the west.”

Rob drew out his pocket compass and speedily paced off the distance. This brought them into a sort of clearing. It was small, and circular in shape, and dense growth hedged it in on all sides. By this time the boys were fairly quivering with excitement, and their elders were not much behind them in eager anticipation.

“Now, three hundred to the north,” ordered the major.

“We’ll have to plunge right into the brush,” said Rob.

“All right. Go ahead. In a few minutes now we shall know if we’re on a fool’s errand or not.”

The former army officer’s voice was vibrant with emotion.

Followed by the others, Rob pushed into the brush, pacing off the required three hundred feet as accurately as he could. All at once he came to a halt.

“Three hundred,” he announced.

As they looked about them a feeling of keen disappointment set in. Tall brush was hemming them in on all sides. No trace of a stone man, or anything else but the close-growing vegetation, could be seen.

“Fooled again!” was the exclamation that was forcing itself to Tubby’s irrepressible lips when he stopped short, struck by the look of keen disappointment on the major’s face.

“It looks as if we had had all our trouble for nothing, boys,” he began, when Rob interrupted.

“What’s that off there, major, through the bushes yonder. You can see it best from here.”

The major hastened to the young leader’s side.

“It’s a sort of cliff or precipice,” he cried.

“Maybe the man of stone is located there,” suggested Rob; “it’s worth trying, don’t you think so, sir?”

“By all means. This growth may have sprung up since the treasure was hidden away, and so have concealed the place.”

Once more the party moved on. A few paces through the undergrowth brought them to the foot of a steepish cliff of rough, gray stone. It appeared to be about thirty feet or more in height. Above it towered the rugged peak of the first of the Three Brothers.

“Now, where’s the man of stone?” asked the professor in a puzzled tone, gazing about him.

“There’s certainly no indication of a man of that material or any other,” opined the major, likewise peering in every direction.

“What’s that mass of rock on the cliff top?” asked Merritt suddenly; “it looks something like a human figure.”

They all gazed up. A big mass of rock was poised at the summit of the cliff. There was a large rock with a smaller one perched on the top of it. To a vivid imagination it might have suggested a body and a head.

“It’s worth investigating, anyway,” decided the major; “we’ll look at the face of the cliff directly beneath it. Maybe there is an opening there.”

But this decision was more easily arrived at than carried out. Thorny brush and thick, tall weeds shrouded the base of the cliff for a height of eight or ten feet. But the Boy Scouts had their field axes with them, and before long the blows of the steel were resounding. In a few minutes they had cleared away a lot of the brush directly beneath the two poised stones.

The major and the professor, with Jumbo looking rather awe-stricken at the major’s side, stood watching.

“These balanced stones prove my theory that all this is of glacial origin,” the professor was saying. “Some antediluvian water course must have left them there. Why, it wouldn’t take much of a push to shove them over.”

“That is true,” agreed the major; “in that case, supposing that an entrance does exist at this spot, they would block it effectually.”

“Very much so,” agreed the professor dryly; “in fact – ”

“Hoo-r-a-y!”

The shout rang gladly through the silent woods. The boys had thrown down their axes and stood with flushed, triumphant faces turned toward the elder members of the party. The major was quick to guess the cause of their excitement.

“They’ve found it!” he cried, springing forward.

The professor and Jumbo followed. As they came up Rob was pointing to an opening at the base of the cliff which the cleared brush had revealed.

“The entrance to the cavern of Ruby Glow!” he exclaimed dramatically, while the rest of the Boy Scouts swung off into Tubby’s extemporized song of triumph.