The Outdoor Chums - Captain Quincy Allen
A sharp "click" close to Frank's ear announced that Will was at his old
tricks again. He had snapped off a view of the shaggy visitor squatted
there with the open kettle between his paws, scooping up its juicy
contents with evident relish. Canned corn was a treat that did not come
his way every day, and Bruin meant to make the most of his opportunity.
"I thought I had a glimpse of something moving over there back of the
tent, and it might be Bluff. I hope he don't try to shoo the old varmint
off before we get a whack at him. I've only got bird-shot in my gun but
at close quarters that ought to do as well as a bullet, eh, Frank?" asked
Jerry, excited at the prospect.
"Wait I've a notion that you may be surprised yet. I've also a hunch, my
boy, that there will be another claimant for the honors of this
campaign. Sometimes surprises spring out of the very earth. Watch!" said
Frank, laying a hand on the gun of his chum, as though impelling him to
hold his fire.
Suddenly there was a loud bang!
The bear rolled over in a heap regardless of the congregated tinware that
was consequently sent scurrying to the right and to the left.
"Who fired?" shouted the amazed Jerry.
"Look out, fellows, the old rascal's up again, and I guess I'd better get
behind a tree with my camera!" exclaimed Will, suiting the action to the
words with commendable rapidity.
Bang! went a second discharge at this juncture, and the bear now turning
bit savagely at its hindquarters as though its wounds smarted severely.
Immediately a third discharge followed the others. Bruin had by this
time apparently sighted the party from whom all these stinging cuts must
have proceeded. He gave a roar of rage and lumbering awkwardly across
the space started to try and climb a little tree just alongside one of
the tents.
"It's Bluff, and he's up in that tree!" shouted Will, as he peeped around
his own shelter, and took in the picture with another "click."
"But--he's got a gun!" stammered Jerry.
"Of course he has. Didn't he bring one with him? Perhaps a good fairy may
have given him a tip as to where it could be found. There! he has fired
again, and that time he missed, for the range was too close."
Frank, as he was speaking, commenced to advance into the open.
"Looky out, Marse Frank, he chaw yuh up, clean suah!" bawled Uncle
Toby, from the crotch in the tree where his ladder had allowed him to
reach. "Git up heah, honey, whah he can't reach yuh. Dat b'ar am ma-ad
clar t'rough!"
"Four times he's shot--didn't I say he couldn't hit the side of a barn.
Think of him carrying a Gatling gun," said Jerry.
"But he _has_ hit him more than once. Look how the brute is bleeding, and
just to think, Jerry, he's got two more chances. Those pump-guns don't
seem so very bad in an emergency," laughed Frank, who seemed to be
enjoying the little affair very much indeed.
"There goes one more; and the bear still lives. Talk to me about that,
will you, if he didn't shoot its stub of a tail off that time! What next,
I wonder? Why not execute the poor beast scientifically, and not murder
him by inches?"
He moved his gun forward again as though bent on shooting. Frank,
however, would not let him raise the weapon.
"Wait, I say; give Bluff one more chance. Make allowance for his
excitement and his position while the bear is shaking that tree so. If he
misses again we will both fire together and put an end to the comedy
before it turns into a tragedy."
"That's what it will be if Bluff ever drops down into those claws. Why
don't the duffer shoot? I can't stand it much longer, I tell you."
"Hold hard. I've no doubt he's waiting to get a good show, when the bear
stops rocking that tree for a second. There now!"
A sixth roar drowned Frank's last words. This time Bluff must have
steeled his nerves, and covered the side of the bear, for with the report
the animal keeled over, made a vain attempt to get up again, gave a few
kicks, and then lay still.
"Hurrah! Bluff has killed his bear!" yelled Frank, rushing forward, and
swinging his hat excitedly.
"Come down here and stand over the fallen beast while I immortalize you
as the mightiest Nimrod of them all," called Will, rushing up with his
camera ready to do the business with neatness and dispatch.
Jerry said nothing. He looked a bit dejected as he stood there and
surveyed the dead bear. It was not envy that gripped his soul either, for
Jerry was generous by nature. Something else had seized upon him, and
Frank smiled as though satisfied with the way things had come out.
Bluff came scrambling down from his uncertain perch, looking wild.
"Is he really dead, fellows? Just to think that after all I did it with
my new repeating shotgun! Ain't it a dandy, though? If Jerry hadn't gone
to work and hid it away, I might have downed all the game that's come
into this camp," he said, looking upon the black, hairy beast with a
shudder, for he had had quite a severe fright while swaying to and fro
with an angry bear beneath waiting for him to drop, like a ripe
persimmon, as Jerry afterwards described it.
"Jerry?" shouted Will, in blank amazement.
"Yes, he stuck the gun in that long box over there. You remember his
falling over it and bruising his shins. That was what gave him the
miserable idea, I suppose. Anyway, he did it while the rest of us were
out in the brush hunting for the fellow who threw those rocks into our
camp," declared Bluff, scowling at the author of his woes.
Jerry laughed, a little forcedly it is true.
"I suppose I might as well own up, Bluff. I'm the guilty wretch, all
right. The temptation came to me, and I did the job without thinking what
it would mean to you. Honestly I've felt sore about it more than once
since, and had just about made up my mind to confess, when by some
accident, it seems, you found it. But you don't know it all. I hid the
gun and then, when I went to see if it was safe, it was gone. I didn't
know what to make of that, but fancied somebody else in camp had taken
it. Then I commenced a search, and I found the gun down near that hole. I
rather think some of the Lasher crowd came and took the gun, but I am not
sure. After I found the gun I brought it to camp and put it in the box
again. I take back some of the hard things I've been saying about that
weapon. She can shoot, all right, and in the hands of an expert might,
as I said, clean out all the game going."
"Frank told me to take another look around, just before you fellows
left camp. I didn't have the heart to until a little while back, and
was delighted to find the gun under those pieces of canvas in the box.
It wasn't wet a bit in that hot old storm we had, either," continued
Bluff again, as be contemplated his quarry, and then puffed out with
honest pride.
"Say, was it you shooting a little while back?" asked Will, just then;
"because we heard a lot of shots somewhere around."
"Why, yes, I got Uncle Toby to stand behind a tree, and throw up the wash
basin half a dozen times while I banged away."
"Yes," said Frank, picking up the article in question, "and to judge from
the holes you put through it we'll have to do without a basin during the
remainder of our stay in camp. But how do you suppose this bear wandered
into camp?"
"Reckons dat he jest smells de cawn, Marse Frank, w'en I opens up de can,
an' by gorry, dat b'ar he can't resist de temptations to hab some. I seen
him comin' foh me, an' I jest lets out a yell an' runs up dis yer safety
ladder," remarked Toby, as he patted the article in question
affectionately.
"We heard the yells, all right, and came running. Look here, Bluff, old
man, you got your bear in spite of my playing that mean trick on you;
are you going to call it quits, and be friends?" asked Jerry, holding
out his hand.
"I--er--I don't know," stammered Bluff.
"I am just as sorry as I can be, Bluff, really I am, and I'd give the
world if I hadn't played that trick. At first I was going to own up, but
when you went off after the Lasher crowd it--well, I didn't see how I
could do it. But after I got it back I hoped every hour that you would
look into the box and discover the gun. Oh, say you'll forgive me!" added
Jerry, pleadingly.
"Well, I feel a bit raw about it yet, but this is no time to show
resentment, with such a glorious trophy at my feet. Yes, we'll call it
quits, Jerry, only after this you might forget to sneer at a gun that
happens to be different from yours."
"I agree, and that ends it," said Jerry, as he squeezed the other's hand.
CHAPTER XXV
BREAKING CAMP
And they had bear steak for supper.
Honestly, none of them thought a great deal of the treat, only that it
seemed to be the proper thing for hunters to enjoy the results of their
prowess with their guns.
Bluff was the happiest chap in camp, unless Will be excepted; he fondled
that recovered gun almost the whole evening, and while Jerry winced every
time he saw it, he dared not lift up his voice in protest after the great
work which the so-called Gatling gun had done in the hands of a
greenhorn.
Jerry with all his skill in the line of shooting had never been given the
opportunity to kill a bear, and he felt that the time had gone by for him
to class Bluff as a "come-on."
They spent a joyful evening, though, going over the exciting incidents of
the last forty-eight hours again and again.
"And to think that we have only been up here a few days, boys. Why, if
this sort of thing keeps on at this rate during our two weeks' stay,
whatever in the world am I going to do for more films?" asked Will,
plaintively.
"Keep the balance for especially good subjects," said Jerry, carelessly.
"Yes, but sometimes, you know, the best pictures are those you fail to
get. Now, there was that one with you hanging to that ladder, I'll never
get over my disappointment about losing that. Whenever anything of that
sort crops up again, I hope nobody will steal my camera."
"Talk to me about dogged perseverance, this fellow certainly has 'em all
beat to a frazzle," said Jerry, with an injured air, "I expect next he'll
be proposing that we go back to that old shaft, and while I hang by my
teeth to that blessed, shaky ladder, he will crack off a few views of the
circus. Don't you dare propose that, or I'll forget my promise to be
good, and begin to hide things again!"
"Oh! all right, I won't mention it, only it's a shame, that's what, when
any fellow in these days refuses to put himself out a little just to
oblige a friend, and interest posterity," grumbled Will.
They stayed up until quite late, singing songs of school and college
life, and having a happy time. Not one among the four dreamed of the
shadow that was even then hovering over Kamp Kill Kare.
There was no alarm that night, for which one and all felt grateful. This
thing of being aroused out of a sound sleep to have the covers whipped
off by a roaring gale may read all very nice, but the reality is quite a
different matter. And when wild animals invade the peaceful camp it
strikes one as very funny in print, but is apt to bring about a chilly
feeling when encountered in real life.
As usual, Frank was the first one up, and he soon had the camp astir with
his cheery calls. The nipping, frosty air proclaimed that now the Fall
had come in earnest, and that they would be glad after this to keep a
fire burning during each night, for warmth.
As they sat about the blaze after breakfast, laying out plans for the
day, the sound of a horse's neigh startled them.
"It's the sheriff, I reckon," said Jerry, as they jumped up.
And he had guessed correctly, for presently they saw a horseman appear,
and as he came up he waved his hand in greeting.
"Sorry, boys, but I've got some bad news for you," he said.
"Anybody dead, or sick?" asked Frank, turning a bit pale.
"Oh, no, nothing of that sort, I'm glad to say. This concerns you fellows
only?" was the quick reply of Mr. Dodd, the sheriff.
The four boys looked at one another with alarm.
"I bet I know what it is--the Head has concluded to start the school up
under half a roof, and wants us to come back right away!" said Will,
mournfully.
Mr. Dodd laughed aloud.
"Hit it the first slat out of the box, Will. And you've got to report
to-morrow morning, so you must go back to-day sure. I saw some of your
fathers, and they say the same, so there's no escape. Sorry to bring you
bad news; but looks like you've been doing your share of game-getting in
the short time you were here," nodding toward the bear that was hanging
up, and the deerskin, as well as the pelt of the invading wildcat.
"Well, it's hard lines, sir, but I suppose we have to obey. But get off
and have breakfast. Toby just loves to cook, you know. There's plenty of
coffee left, and you can have your choice of bear steak, or venison,"
said Jerry, hospitably.
So the sheriff made himself at home. He even assisted the boys get
their things together preparatory to moving back to town, before riding
on further.
The motor-cycles had been securely packed away under the big fly all this
time, and had not suffered at all from the rain. Indeed, the boys took
good care to keep them well oiled, knowing the benefit of having such
valuable pieces of mechanism in first-class order at all times.
Jerry went over to the farmer's and secured the horses and wagon. Then
the work of dismantling Kamp Kill Kare began. They tried to appear gay,
but every one of the boys had become attached to the place during their
short stay, and felt badly over leaving these scenes with so much undone
that they had planned for.
"Never mind, fellows, we're going to come again and again. This first
camp of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club isn't going to be the last, by any
means. And I guess we've learned a good many things on this trip," sang
out Jerry, cheerily.
"That's true every day, with all of us. I'm learning all the time. And
next year when we get under canvas we will have a lot of pleasant
memories to look back to. Why, with Will's pictures to help out, the
winter will be a constant feast of stories about the things that have
happened to us up here," remarked Frank.
"I'd like to have seen more of old Jesse. He's just chock full of woods
lore, and can give you all the points you want about animals and such.
How are things getting on out there, fellows? Is the wagon pretty well
loaded?" asked Jerry.
"Have the last tent packed away in ten minutes. Toby says he can drive
all right, but we'll keep near by to lend him a hand if necessary. The
road is some rough in places until we get on the pike."
Half an hour later the wagon moved away from the camp under the hemlocks.
Uncle Toby looked back and grinned amiably as he noted his ladder of
protection, and his friendly tree of refuge.
Each boy in turn started his machine by walking, then vaulted into the
saddle, and began to move along the trail that led down to the lumber
camps at the head of the lake.
No one said a word. In truth all were too full of emotion to speak, for
they felt this sudden flitting more than they cared to admit.
A turn of the trail and no longer could they see the twin hemlocks under
which the two khaki tents had stood. Frank had broken up many times in
his camping experiences and knew just how it felt; but the sensation was
new to the others. It was as if they had just lost a dear friend--as
though something had gone out of their lives that could never be
recovered again.
Now in advance of the trundling wagon, and anon bringing up the rear,
they kept on until finally the opening at the lumber camp was gained.
From now on their progress would be faster, and if they wished they could
leave Toby to come along with the wagon while they opened up and made a
speedy run for home.
Somehow no one seemed to care about doing that. The wagon held something
that had been associated in their minds with the most delightful of
times, and they felt as though they ought to continue to act as a guard
of honor to the slow moving team.
"Cheer up, fellows," called Frank, seeing how gloomy his chums looked;
"every one of us has good reason for feeling proud and satisfied, even if
our vacation has been cut short. I know I'm glad I came. I've had just a
glorious time!"
"And to think of the fine pictures I'll be developing to-night. Oh! don't
I hope they turn out good, though. Frank, you promised to come around and
help me with your advice. I wouldn't take a chance of spoiling those
views for anything," said Will, beginning to brighten up at the thought.
"And sure, I ought to be satisfied, with a deer, four wild dogs, and part
of a wildcat, too, as my portion," exclaimed Jerry, also smiling again.
"Well, what d'ye think of me then, me and the blessed old pump-gun you
used to make so much fun about? A bear, a great big savage bear that was
trying to shake me down out of that tree It's in the wagon, too, and all
our folks are going to try how sharp their teeth are when they get to
biting a genuine bear steak. I rather think I'm in this thing some, eh,
fellows?" demanded Bluff, positively.
"Yes, I rather believe you lead the procession this time, Bluff. Go up
ahead, and do the grand marshal act when we get near home. But, say what
you will, boys, we did have glorious fun. I doubt whether any fellows
ever had more adventures crowded into so short a time before. And we're
all of the same mind, I take it, ready to try it again at the very first
opportunity," said Frank.
And how they did try it again will be told in another book, to be called:
The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island."
In that volume we shall meet all our young friends again, and likewise
their enemies, and follow out the particulars of some decidedly thrilling
happenings.
"Before we get into civilization again, let's give one last rousing cheer
for good old Kamp Kill Kare," cried Jerry.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! tiger!" rang out four boyish voices; and then,
waving an imaginary farewell to the pleasant camp under the hemlocks, the
outdoor chums turned once more to the duties of school life.
THE END