At Whispering Pine Lodge - Lawrence J. Leslie
CHAPTER X
TRAPS FOB NIGHT PROWLERS
"Yuh see," remarked Obed, turning around as they drew near the first
enclosure, where the parent foxes were confined behind the wire fencing,
"I've just been adding a few finishing touches tuh this here trap
scheme. I got a little idea while I was alookin' the ground over, and
reckoned I could fix it up so there'd be a heap right good chance that a
feller creeping around here o' a night would step into the contraption.
I'll show yuh how I 'ranged it."
With that he led the way along a plain trail that seemed to be the
easiest route up to the enclosure. Three times out of four a stranger,
prowling around with meagre light to guide him, would be apt to follow
that beaten track; and this was evidently what the shrewd Obed was
counting on.
"Well, it's this way my little scheme is agoin' to work," he explained,
after reaching a certain point. "See this rope--I throw it across a limb
o' this tree. Yuh notice that it's got an easy runnin' slip-noose at the
end, don't yuh? That I'm fixing right here, where there's a good chance
the thief will put his foot in it as he takes this step I'm showing
you."
He proved that he was right, and indeed it was really a difficult
thing, after Obed had placed the noose just as he wanted it, close to
the ground, and on little wooden crotches he had arranged there for the
purpose, for any one to step across without getting his foot entangled
in the rope.
"Well, let's reckon, then, he does get caught in the noose, and jerks it
tight around his ankle," continued Obed, very much interested himself in
what he was saying, and as Max quickly noticed, even neglecting to speak
as he usually did, although he had shown this odd trait before. "What
happens? I'll show you how it's going to work out, if everything runs as
I've planned."
Accordingly, he picked up a heavy piece of wood that chanced to be lying
close by, and which doubtless Obed had used before in order to test the
accuracy of his figuring. This he inserted in the noose, and then gave
it a hunch that not only tightened the rope but carried out the further
purpose of the inventor.
Instantly things began to happen. The boys heard a queer rattling sound
near by, and immediately the wooden "dummy" was jerked out of Obed's
hands, to be drawn up until it struck against the limb of the tree fully
ten feet above. Steve gave a whoop.
"My stars! but that worked like a charm, Obed, let me tell you. Greased
lightning could hardly be quicker than the way you've arranged your
trap. And what was all that rattling sound about? What's holding on to
the other end of the rope, which pulled the log up on the run? I want to
know, even if I ain't from Missouri."
The woods boy laughed as though quite pleased because his trap had
worked well enough to call forth such words of praise from these new
friends.
"Come over and see," he simply said.
They followed the line of rope, now taut, and resembling a huge "fiddle
string," as Bandy-legs remarked, testing it as he passed along. It led
them to the brow of an abrupt little descent, a sheer drop of perhaps
twenty feet. Down this slope they followed the rope with their eyes and
then discovered it was attached to a large and heavy barrel that could
almost be called a hogshead, evidently something which had been used as
a crate to convey a portion of the previous owner of the cabin's
crockery ware thither when he moved up from town.
As the boys were no simpletons, they readily grasped the essential
qualities of Obed's little scheme. It may have been original with him;
and then again possibly he had borrowed the same from some book he had
read; but, nevertheless, it struck them as pretty clever.
Not content with the heaviness of the big barrel, he had placed a number
of stones inside so as to add to the swiftness of its flight down that
declivity, once it was released. The rope acted as "starter," and upon
being jerked, as must be the case, should any one get a foot caught in
the noose, it released a stake that kept the heavy barrel poised there
at the top of the descent. The consequence was that it would plunge
downward almost as though making a sheer drop; the noose tightening
about the leg or legs of the unhappy wight who had sprung the trap, he
would be jerked off his feet and hauled up, head downward, to dangle
there in midair, as helpless as a babe.
"Set it again, and let me try the trick, please, Obed," pleaded Steve,
who seemed to be particularly charmed with the arrangement.
"I will if yuh help me git the barrel back up the hill again," replied
the other. "Workin' all by myself I've had tuh take the rocks out each
time before I could push the old thing back again tuh the top, 'cause
she's some heavy, believe me."
Steve, yes, and both Bandy-legs and Toby also, hastened to comply with
this reasonable request; and between them all the heavy barrel was
slowly pushed up again until the stake held it poised there on the top
of the sharp declivity.
Max stood and watched operations, not that he was unwilling to lend a
hand also if necessary; but just then he wanted to observe Obed, and
draw certain conclusions in which he, Max, seemed to take considerable
interest.
Then Steve was given the wooden "dummy" which had worked so like a
charm, and instructed how to manage it, so that it would take the place
of a man's lower extremities. Steve did so well that he, too, by a
little jerk displaced the delicately arranged "trigger" as Obed called
the stake, and caused the barrel to pitch furiously down the steep
slope.
Steve had not been quite quick enough to snatch his hands away, after
working the trick. The consequence was that when the billet of wood was
plucked from his grasp with such swiftness, and drawn instantly aloft,
Steve staggered, and might have fallen only that Obed clutched hold of
him.
"Wow! did you see that?" gasped Steve, staring upwards at the dangling
"dummy" as though he could easily imagine it a kicking, squirming human
figure. "And say, it worked as fine as silk, didn't it? Obed, you've
done yourself proud with this little game. If that thief ever gets a
foot in your slip-noose his goose will be cooked, that's as plain as
dirt."
He actually seemed to be very proud of the fact that he had acted as
master of ceremonies, and set the trap off so successfully. Nothing
would do but that Bandy-legs and Toby Jucklin in addition should be
given the same distinction; so twice more was the barrel rolled up the
slope, and on both occasions it worked to a charm.
"It seems to be next door to perfect, for a fact," asserted Max, upon
being appealed to for his opinion; but he did not seem to "hanker" after
trying it out on his own account.
Finally the weighted barrel was again pushed up to its appointed
position and held there with the stake. When the proper time came, it
would be easy for the inventor to arrange the slip-noose, and set the
trap.
"What, is there anything more to be shown?" asked Steve, when Obed asked
them to follow him a little further.
A few minutes later and they were gravely examining an odd arrangement
which consisted for the most part of a very heavy log. Steve looked it
over critically, and then ventured to give his opinion:
"Looks a whole lot like a deadfall trap, such as they use in most places
to get bears in," he went on to say.
Obed chuckled as though pleased at the answer to his look of inquiry.
"Just what it is built on the pattern of, Steve, if yuh want to know
it," he admitted. "The only difference is that in the regular deadfall
the log comes down and smashes the poor bear by its sheer weight. Now,
I've tried to rig _my_ trap up so it'll simply make a prisoner o' the
creeper. I'll show yuh just how it works. I've got a dummy here, too,
that I use to test things. Yuh see there's always just a little chance
it might go wrong; and I don't want to get caught, and made a prisoner,
with nobody around to let me loose."
With that he demonstrated his idea. The trap was sprung just as he meant
it should be, and if the dummy had really been a man, he would have
found himself caught tightly in the log trap, with but a poor chance of
ever getting out again, unless external assistance came along.
"Any more tricks like these two up your sleeve, Obed?" asked Steve,
after they had further examined the deadfall, and Max had pronounced it
skillfully constructed.
"Well, I'm afraid I reached the end o' my rope when I hatched up this
second idea, Steve," the other remarked, in a sort of apologetic tone.
"Of course I might think up a few more if I reckoned it'd be necessary.
But I've got a hunch that one o' the lot is agoin' tuh grab that thief,
providin' he does come around here. Besides, when yuh git right down to
brass tacks, thar isn't as much danger o' my bein' robbed in the
night-time, as in the day."
"And why not, Obed?" further asked Steve; "I'd think that was the very
time you'd feel scariest, when it was dark, and you couldn't see if
anybody was prowling around the farm."
"Stop an' think how foxes have holes in the ground, into which they c'n
burrow when scared the least mite," explained Obed, readily, "and yuh'll
see how hard it'd be for a stranger to lay hands on them. Now, in the
daytime, if they came along, with me away from the place, a man with a
rifle could knock over my pets as easy as turnin' his hand. But, all the
same, I've fixed my traps. For one thing I'd like to find out jest who
the thief is."
Max noticed what emphasis he put on that last remark. He could see the
customary twinkle in Obed's eyes give way to a sterner look; as though
he had brooded more or less over this same subject. And Max himself
nodded his head as though he might in a measure understand just how Obed
felt.
So they returned to the house. Bandy-legs at least rejoiced because with
all those clever contraptions set, and waiting to give the intended
thief a warm reception, it did seem as though there would be hardly any
necessity for them to waste their precious time in sitting up and
keeping watch, when they would be so much better off enjoying "balmy
sleep," as he called it; and all sleep was along that order, according
to the mind of Bandy-legs.
Max and Steve trailed along well in the rear. This may have simply
happened, but Steve twice stopped the other, and pointed out something
he wished Max to see; so possibly the delay was intentional on his part.
At least, he presently made a remark that would make it seem so.
"It certainly looks as if Obed was a pretty ingenious maker of snares,
that's sure, Max?" Steve was saying, significantly.
"That's right, he is, Steve, and we must give him great credit for it,
even if his traps fail to catch a thief in the act."
"I was just thinking, Max," pursued the other, meditatively, "that it's
evident this same Obed must have inherited that strain from a long line
of trapper ancestors or progenitors; wouldn't you think so, too?"
Max looked at his companion queerly, and smiled as he made reply.
"You may be right, Steve, of course, but it strikes me Obed has an
original streak of genius all his own, which doesn't have to depend on
any inherited trait. Things are not _always_ what they seem in this
world, you know."
"Lookey here, Max, you've struck a scent which you don't think best to
share with your boon companions, that's as plain to me as two and two
make four. You've come to think a little the same way as Bandy-legs,
perhaps, and suspect Obed of being more than he lets on? Is that it,
Max? Do you really believe he's playing some sly trick on us? Is that
yarn about Mr. Coombs all moonshine? Does this fur farm belong to some
company, that Obed is working for? I wish you'd tell me what you've got
in your mind, Max."
"I expect to a little later on, Steve, never fear," he was assured. "I'm
not more than half certain even now that it can be so, and I never like
to make a mess of things. Besides, you know, it wouldn't be just fair to
Obed to have us all suspecting him of playing tricks. Just go on as
you've been doing. Take my word for it, this new friend we've made is
all to the good, and will never turn out to be the wrong sort of
fellow."
He started on after saying this, and Steve followed, looking very much
puzzled, and shaking his head as though he could not catch the right
idea. Shortly afterwards, however, Steve had apparently forgotten his
newly awakened suspicions, for he was entering into the general
conversation as heartily as ever. Still, Max noticed, with amusement,
that from time to time Steve would follow Obed hungrily with his eyes,
and on such occasions that double line of wrinkles, expressive of
bewilderment, might again be seen upon the boy's forehead.
Toby and Bandy-legs were only too glad to take the preparation of supper
into their hands completely. They felt a certain amount of pride in
their culinary skill, and wished to show their host the full list of
their accomplishments as camp cooks. Besides, they believed that among
their abundant stores they carried a number of things which Obed failed
to possess; and of course a new dish was apt to be a pleasant surprise
to the woods boy.
The supper thus concocted and carried out was certainly a genuine
triumph. Steve openly congratulated the two efficient cooks on their
"masterly skill"; though Max laughingly warned the others to "beware of
the Greeks bearing gifts," for there might be a base motive hiding
behind all that glib praise. Steve protested that he meant every word of
it; but then it was well known that Steve hated to do any cooking
himself, and hence was fain to laud the efforts of others in that line,
doubtless in the hope of encouraging them to "keep right on doing it."
After the bountiful meal had been enjoyed, and every one declared that
it would be utterly impossible to eat another single bite, for fear of
the consequences, they spent a very enjoyable evening alongside the fire
that burned on the hearth, at one end of the cabin.
Obed, as he had promised, told them some of the strange things he had
heard from the old sea captain, who, during his life on the Seven Seas,
had met with many most remarkable adventures well worth repeating.
Obed addressed them in his own language, and Max often smiled as though
some of the quaint expressions used by the young narrator amused him;
though perhaps there may have been still another reason for his quiet
chuckling. Steve caught him at it several times, and eyed the other in
perplexity, as though he suspected Max of adding secretly to his fund of
knowledge, which thus far he obstinately declined to share with his
mates.
Later on, when they began to feel sleepy, Obed said he would go out and
make sure his traps were set right. Max offered to keep him company, and
together they sauntered forth, to be followed with a wistful look from
the envious Steve, who was muttering to himself:
"I wish I knew what Max has got in that mind of his right now. I'm dead
certain he's figuring out some sort of thing that's going to give the
rest of us a big surprise, when he sees fit to spring it on us; but for
the life of me I can't guess what it can be. Oh! shucks! what's the use
of bothering any more about it? If it turns out worth while, Max will
tell us in good time; and if he's on the wrong scent, why, he'll just
drop the game, and no harm done."
After a while the others came in again, saying both traps were set, and
there did not seem to be any need of their losing sleep on account of
possible unwelcome visitors. Obed showed how the concealed bunks could
be made ready, and, all of them were loud in their expressions of
satisfaction over having such comfortable lodgings for the night. They
mentally blessed the memory of the said Mr. Coombs, whose forethought
and inventive ingenuity had planned all these wonderful adjuncts of the
little forest lodge.
In due time they crept into their several berths just as if aboard ship;
and after that several of the fellows did not know a single thing until
they were rudely aroused, perhaps some hours later on. The last thing
Steve remembered hearing as he rolled himself up in his blanket was the
crackle of the fire, the mournful sighing of the wind through the tops
of the whispering pines, and then the distant call of an owl to its
mate.
He awoke with a suddenness that caused him to sit up, and consequently
crack his head against the boards above his bunk. The blow almost
knocked Steve back again as he had been before, and must have hurt
considerably; but he ignored this fact just then, because from without
there were coming loud yells of fright in a man's voice.
CHAPTER XI
A TREE THAT BORE STRANGE FRUIT
"Max--Obed, we've got something!" almost shrieked Steve, as he now
tumbled out of his odd bunk very much after the fashion of a dislodged
log, landing with a bump on the floor.
And Steve was not alone in his circus stunt, for several other fellows
were making a hasty and undignified exit at the same time, Bandy-legs
and Toby Jucklin, for instance. Max somehow managed to get on his feet
without so much scrambling; and as for Obed, as he had been sleeping on
the cot closer to the fire, they could already see him hastily pulling
on some clothes.
"Get dressed, and in a hurry!" cried Max, suiting his actions to the
words.
"Oh! listen to him whoop it up, will you?" exclaimed Bandy-legs, as
those loud calls still smote the night air, and in a way that covered
the whole gamut of human utterance.
Toby wanted to say something, too, but though his jaws worked, no
audible sound came forth to explain the agitated state of his mind. They
had luckily prepared for such a sudden call, and had their outer clothes
handy, so that in an incredibly brief space of time all of the boys
managed to get something on.
Then Steve snatched up his Marlin gun. Obed had already done the same
with his rifle, so that when the latter flung wide the door and they
trooped forth, they were in a condition to do battle if necessary, and
at least strike terror into the heart of any skulking marauder.
Max, wise general that he was, had thought of something very essential
to their success. This was nothing more or less than a lantern. They had
been thoughtful enough to fetch one along, a clever little contraption
that took only a small amount of room, and yet afforded considerable
light. Besides, Obed possessed a lantern of the ordinary type, together
with a plentiful supply of oil, looking to the long winter evenings when
he might want to read in order to pass away some of the spare time, that
promised to drag heavily on his hands.
So they poured forth. The cries still continued, and as vociferous as
ever. Indeed, if anything, there was a wilder strain to them now, as
though the fellow who gave utterance to the shouts might be getting
sorely alarmed at his strange condition, and feared the worst.
There was no trouble about deciding which way to go. Even if they did
not have Obed to serve as guide, and pilot the expedition, they could
easily have followed the loud notes of alarm.
Everybody was more or less excited, from Obed down to Max himself, and
small wonder when the fact of their being aroused in the dead of the
night by this fierce racket is taken into consideration.
Hastening in this manner toward the spot where the first trap had been
set, they speedily discovered that the overhanging tree bore strange
fruit. Something grotesque was swinging violently back and forth. It was
a human figure, but hardly recognizable as such, on account of the fact
that it now hung head downward, with one leg firmly gripped by the
tenacious slip-noose, and the other, together with a pair of wildly
flung arms, cutting all sorts of eccentric circles through the air.
Never in all their varied experiences had Max and his three comrades
looked on a more remarkable spectacle than the one by which they were
now greeted. The man's face could not be plainly seen on account of his
coat sagging down partly over his head, so they could not immediately
tell what he looked like; but he certainly possessed a bull-like voice
that, properly trained for opera use might have won him a fair amount of
fame and money, for it was more than usually lusty.
He seemed to divine the fact that those in the cabin must have rushed
out in answer to his shouts. Perhaps he detected the light they carried
with them; or it might be Steve's loud cries caught his strained hearing
at such times as his own breath temporarily failed him.
"Help me, somebody, why don't yuh? I'm strangling to death, I tell yuh.
All the blood's running to my head! I'm seeing a million stars already,
and I'll _die_ if yuh don't cut me down. Hurry! hurry, please do,
somebody!"
Obed looked to Max to say what ought to be done, for already he seemed
to have come under the magical sway of the other's leadership.
"Take hold of him, and tie his hands behind his back before you think to
let him down!" was the sensible advice given by Max.
Thereupon Obed instantly produced some heavy cord and started
operations. While the boy deftly worked, the man continued to plead,
trying to claw at him also; but Obed managed to get his job completed
notwithstanding the interruptions. He was at the same time telling the
unfortunate man to keep quiet, and he would be let down presently.
Steve stood by, gun in hand. He was casting uneasy looks around as
though suspecting that if the fellow had companions near by, as seemed
likely, and they should, recovering from, their alarm attempt his
rescue, it might be his duty to stand them off one and collectively.
Bandy-legs and Toby sprang to where the man dangled. Max was already at
the side of Obed.
"All ready, Obed?" he was heard to say.
"I've spliced his hands up in good style, Max," came the reply.
"Good enough. Now, Toby and Bandy-legs, take hold of him, and lift when
I give you the word. I'll slip the rope off his ankle, and you turn him
right side up. Now, go to it, both of you--yo-heave-o!"
It was quickly done, and the man, upon finding himself placed once more
on his feet, staggered; indeed, he was so "groggy" after his recent
strange experience at swimming in thin air, that only for the supporting
arm of Max he would have fallen flat.
The latter allowed him to stagger backward until he leaned against the
body of the tree under which the novel man-trap had been arranged. He
was breathing hard, but seemed to be recovering from his panic; at least
his cries had utterly ceased, which was one good thing.
So Max flashed the light into his face, while Obed leaned forward and
eagerly stared hard at him. They saw rough lineaments, seamed and
hardened by exposure to the elements; but of course the face was that of
an utter stranger to Max. As for Obed, he was heard to give a _sigh_ of
disappointment, as though he too had failed to recognize any one whom he
had reason to know.
The man by now seemed to have recovered in part. He was looking at the
boys in a peculiar way; Max could not decide on the spur of the moment
whether it was wonder or shrewdness that he saw there as the predominant
trait of the man's features. But at any rate, since he had recovered his
breath to some extent, he should be capable of speaking, and explaining
how it came about he found himself in such a predicament.
"Well, who are you, anyway?" demanded Max, throwing as much sternness
into his voice as he could. "Give an account of yourself, and tell us
why you were creeping about here like a thief in the night?"
"What! me a thief?" shrilled the man, as though, again excited by the
very idea of such a base accusation; "I never had that name, young
feller. Them that knows Jake Storms say he's an honest man, if ever
there was one. I'm only a guide, and a trapper, but nobody ever yet
caught me thievin' or poachin', I'd have yuh know."
"Where's your home, Jake Storms?" continued Max.
"If yuh mean whar do I hang out, it's this way," explained the other.
"Last summer I was up at Paul Smith's place, workin' for the hotel. I
heard some tall stories about the country around old Mount Tom, how full
of fur animals it was, and so I made up my mind to spend the winter
hereabouts. I built me a cabin away up on the other side of the
mountain, and was agoin' to start settin' my traps when I got word that
a gentleman wanted me to come down to Lathrop and git him. Yuh see, his
doctor advised that he spend the winter in the mountains, and he thought
of me, beca'se we'd been in the woods a heap of times in past years. So
I was headin' for Lathrop by a trail I'd run across that took around the
mountain, and meanin' to keep on as long as I could durin' the night,
when all at once something flew up and hit me ker-slap! Say, I thought
it was an earthquake, sure I did. And then I found myself hangin' upside
down, with all the blood runnin' into my head. What's it mean, young
fellers; I give yuh my word I don't get the hang o' it at all."
Max was not surprised to hear the man speak in this fashion. He had
already made up his mind, after that one good look at the other's face,
the prisoner of the barrel trap was a pretty "slick article," as Steve
would have expressed it. And caught in the act, as he had been, it was
to be expected that the fellow would have some kind of reasonable story
to spin, in order to explain his presence there.