Читать книгу Storm-Bound: or, A Vacation Among the Snow Drifts - Douglas Alan Captain - Страница 2

"I'm surprised at you saying it's going to snow, George," Lil Artha remarked, as he turned on the doubting scout; "because it'd be more like you to tell us ten flakes didn't make a storm, and that anyway there was always a chance of it giving us the go-by. Guess you're tired, and want to snuggle down close to a warm fire, which would explain why you give in so easy-like."

"Just as you please, so long as we do camp," replied the other, as he began to undo the straps that secured his hamper to his back.

"Keep still, fellows!" said Elmer, in a husky whisper; "I honestly believe I saw a bevy of partridges fly up in a tree over yonder," and as he dropped his pack lightly to the ground, he gripped the trusty little twelve-bore Marlin double-barreled shot-gun which he had owned for a number of years, and occasionally found a use for.

"Oh! partridges, fat partridges, and me as hungry as a bear!" gasped Toby; but Elmer had already quitted his chums, and was making his way toward the point he had indicated with his hand.

They watched him with considerable eagerness, and waited to see what luck attended his stalking action.

"Since it looks like we'd have to spend a night here, like the Babes in the Wood," Lil Artha was saying in a whisper, "it'd be real nice if Elmer could only bag four plump birds for our supper! Let's hope he gets a string of the same in range, and makes a double with each shot."

"Honest Injun! I think I could devour four myself, without half trying," Toby assured them, rubbing the pit of his stomach as though to call their attention to the fact that it was an aching void.

"Huh! you mightn't even get the smell of a single one cooking," George warned him; "because I've been told partridges are wary old birds, even up here, where they light in the trees after being flushed, instead of going off with a whirr of their wings, like they do down our way."

"There, he's going to let drive!" said Lil Artha, who, being something of a hunter himself, had been closely observing the progress of Elmer all this time.

"Good luck to his pot-shot!" muttered Toby.

Two reports were heard in quick succession. Then Elmer was seen to hastily run forward, at the same time managing to reload his gun.

"He got one, anyhow!" cried Toby, exultantly; "that fixes me all right. There, he has grabbed another up off the ground. Bully for Elmer! He knows how to work the game, all right. What! another bird? Oh! George, if only he had killed four you might have had one, the same as the rest of us!"

"Well, I like your nerve," said George, indignantly; "why should I be singled out to get left, tell me that, Toby?"

"Keep quiet, George, and don't get riled so easy," Lil Artha told him, "because, as sure as you live he's hurrying over to pick a fourth bird up. What d'ye think of that for great luck, now? Four hungry scouts, and a fat partridge for each. I think it's a splendid introduction to Uncle Caleb's pet game preserve, don't you all?"

"He must have knocked over three with that right barrel," ventured Toby; "like as not they were all sitting along a limb when he fired, and then he picked that last one when they were on the wing, remembering that George would have to go hungry, or only suck the racks, if he didn't get another."

When Elmer rejoined them he was wearing a smile of contentment such as usually adorns the face of a successful sportsman.

"Couldn't have been better any way you fixed it, fellows," he told them. "There they sat, in a row, and you never saw a prettier sight. I just hated to do such a thing, but even scouts can be forgiven for shooting game when they're adrift in an unknown snow forest, and hungry in the bargain."

"I should say they could," Lil Artha added, forcibly, "and lots of other times in the bargain. But these birds are as plump as any I've ever seen. Just feel of the fat breasts, will you? Makes my mouth water, thinking how fine they'll go with our coffee and crackers. How fortunate we thought to bring a few things along in case Uncle Caleb might run short on rations. Plenty of coffee, a little tea, some sugar, a can of condensed milk, crackers, cheese, a pound of bacon, and a package of self-raising flour for flapjacks. We ought to subsist for a whole day on that bill of fare, don't you think?"

"And as we've got our guns along," interposed Lil Artha, "with more or less of game around us, what's the use of worrying? For one I'm meaning to take things as they come, and squeeze what fun I can out of the same."

"That's the stuff!" said Toby, and Elmer nodded his approval; only skeptical George remained silent, for he was feeling of his partridge and with a frown on his brow that made Toby hasten to assure him the bird was a real one, and not such as he may have seen in his dreams.

Already Elmer was casting about to see where they had better locate their camp. It was easy to say this would be for only one night, but how did they know? The threatening storm might swoop down with such force that it would virtually imprison them for a much longer stay. And so he considered it worth while to do the best possible while they had any choice of situation.

Elmer had had considerable experience, having spent a year up on a Canadian cattle ranch and wheat farm owned by an uncle, Elmer's father having been given charge of the property. There the boy had learned dozens of things that were apt to prove valuable to any one in the woods. Besides, he had made it a practice to pick up information wherever he went by asking questions, investigating for himself, and constantly increasing his stock of knowledge.

Looking in every quarter he presently decided that since they carried no tent, and it would be no easy task to make a brush shelter, their best move was to settle down in the lee of one of those cavities formed when a hurricane had toppled a number of giant trees over, with their roots, and the earth attached to the same, standing fully eight feet in the air.

There was a little choice about the matter, and Elmer picked out the one best suited to screen them from the northwest wind. The snow would surely come from that direction, and having a windbreak might mean considerable.

"Drop everything here, boys, and let's hustle to collect all the wood we can find. Don't stop short of darkness, because maybe we'll have to keep a fire going for several days. Just drag it handy, so we'll know where to find it, even if the snow comes two feet deep!"

"Whew! I sure hope it don't get us that way to start with," said Toby; "and us not knowing whether Uncle Caleb's shack is to the north, east or west. Don't I wish we'd run across him in the woods, and were toasting our shins alongside a fire in his comfy little place right now! Um! But the snow's coming faster than she was, fellows!"

"The more reason we should get busy," Elmer told him.

At that they started energetically to "make hay while the sun shone," as Lil Artha said, though he must himself have been convinced that the comparison was hardly a good one, judging from the grimace he gave when casting his eyes upward toward the leaden sky that frowned down upon them like a dome.

Fortunately there was no lack of wood handy. This had doubtless been one reason why Elmer had decided on pitching the camp where he did. Those fallen trees had in crashing to the ground broken many large limbs off, and all that was necessary for the campers to do was to drag these, one after another, to a convenient striking distance from the hole in which they intended spending the night.

All around it they banked up the loose wood, until Toby declared they had fully enough to do an army.

"Don't you believe it," said Lil Artha, an authority on fires among his fellow scouts; "you'd be s'prised to see what an enormous amount of wood a fire eats up in a single night; and like as not we may have to hold the fort a week, just as Elmer said. Keep on fetching it a little while longer, boys."

"You're on the safe side there, Lil Artha," the cautious scout master decided; "we can't have too much burning wood, with that sky threatening us. And to run out, with the snow piled up hip-high over everything wouldn't be the nicest job in the world. Let's work at it for another ten minutes. By then it will be so near dark that we can lay off, and get our camp fixed."

So they labored on industriously until Elmer called a halt. George was a good enough worker, and usually did his share when the necessity arose. His grumbling really sprang more from force of habit than a desire to make himself disagreeable. Sometimes Elmer seriously considered whether it would pay them to try and cure George of his fault-finding, and then as often decided that, given time, it must surely die out. Things of that sort generally thrive on opposition.

To Lil Artha was given over the task of making the fire. It was lucky indeed in this pinch that Elmer had thought to bring his pet camp hatchet along. Though its weight had added to his weariness on the march, he had had what he called a "hunch" that it might come in handy, though hardly expecting to be compelled to fall back on the little tool the first thing in order to supply fuel for a camp.

So the tall scout began to hack at a couple of promising fragments of thick limbs which would make good sides for the cooking fire, and upon which their coffeepot could rest; for they had such a thing along, as well as a skillet, both made of aluminum, and weighing next to nothing.

Elmer, assisted by George and Toby, meanwhile started to see how some sort of shelter could be arranged with the four rubber ponchos which they carried. He knew how soldiers on the march are in the habit of fastening two of these together by means of the grummet holes along the edges, forming a little shelter called a "dog-tent," under which the pair can at least keep the upper halves of their bodies from the rain.

By skillful work they managed to cover the cavity behind the upturned roots of the fallen forest monarch in such a fashion that it would shed most of the snow, even though some might drift through the cracks.

"A pretty good job!" Lil Artha told them, as he suspended operations in connection with his fire, which was by now sending out a grateful warmth, and much good cheer in addition.

"Next thing is to get the birds plucked, and ready for the spit," announced Toby, as he took up the one that had been apportioned to him.

George followed suit, but was evidently a poor hand at stripping the feathers off, to judge by the gingerly way he went at it. Lil Artha had to show him just how to grip hold, and make things fly; but even then George looked anything but happy.

"And I'd feel safe in wagering," said Toby, with a laugh, as he held up his partridge, beautifully cleaned, and ready to be broiled before the fire, after he had split it down the back, "that if we were anywhere near home George would be willing to spend his last dime in bribing some boy to finish his job; but that don't go here; no work no pay. Those who expect to dine on partridge must prepare the same. You hear me speaking, George. But I don't mind showing you again how I do it, which according to my notion is a better way than Lil Artha has."

And as George, seeing his opportunity, commenced to compliment Toby, and engage his attention, the result was that he got his partridge not only completely denuded down to the last pinfeather, but split along the back in the bargain.

After that a busy scene that glowing, snapping fire saw, with the coffeepot sending out a delightful aroma, and the four hungry boys each holding out his game near the flames, turning it often in order to allow every part to receive an equal share of the intense heat that was browning the outside so beautifully.

Finally Toby gave a groan.

"Can't stand for it any longer, and that's a fact, fellows!" he announced; "please fill my cup with coffee, Elmer, and let me get started or I'll cave in. George, pass that package of crackers, will you; and, Lil Artha, I'd like to sample that cheese if you don't mind!"

"For goodness' sake everybody wait on Toby, and get him shut off, or he'll give us no peace!" exclaimed Lil Artha, though he had already put his own teeth into one half of his sizzling partridge, to find that it was as tender as could be, and perfectly delicious.

In another minute or two all of them were busily engaged. It was such a pleasant duty, partaking of this forest meal, and amidst such romantic surroundings, that for the time being they forgot all the dismal prospects ahead of them, and were quite merry. Toby joked, and Lil Artha laughed aloud, while Elmer joined them, and even George, placated by having his gnawing pains satisfied, for the time being looked contented with the world. He would not have made any objection had he been offered a second edition of that game supper; for when his bird had been reduced to a mere lot of well-picked bones his taste for broiled partridge seemed as keen as ever.

Possessed of hearty boyish appetites it can readily be understood that they had made a pretty good hole in their limited supplies by the time all of them admitted that they were satisfied. Toby professed to be greatly concerned because of this growing scarcity of rations, and as for George, his gloom had returned, since he was already talking of the time, near at hand most likely, when the cupboard would be as bare as it was when Old Mother Hubbard went to get her dog a bone.

"Gee! whiz! look at it coming down, would you!" burst out Lil Artha, as having finished attending to that clamorous appetite, he thought it worth while to take an observation, in order to learn what the weather might be.

"Never saw it snow harder," admitted Toby.

"Be over our heads by morning, see if 'tain't," George prophesied.

"Well, p'raps you may have a chance to use those snow-shoes sooner'n you thought you would, Toby," ventured Lil Artha, as they all crouched there, staring out at the dark forest, and watching the myriads of big flakes steadily falling, as though a storm of the greatest magnitude had come down from the far northwest, where the weather man keeps this brand of thing in tap for scouts who are incautious enough to be caught napping, away off in a strange woods, and with only rations for one day in their haversacks.